


Don't Worry, It Only Seems Kinky The First Time

by alexanger, ashilrak, draconequus, theGirlNightwing



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Accidental Voyeurism, Blindfolds, Blood, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/F, F/M, Foreplay, Gags, Gangbang, Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Non-Sexual Bondage, Prolonged Restraint, Public Sex, Restraints, Rimming, Spanking, Spitroasting, Threesome - F/M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Violent Sex, Voyeurism, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-03 14:19:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 32,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8717221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexanger/pseuds/alexanger, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashilrak/pseuds/ashilrak, https://archiveofourown.org/users/draconequus/pseuds/draconequus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/theGirlNightwing/pseuds/theGirlNightwing
Summary: It's like a kinkmeme but better because the prompts are filled





	1. Bondage; Jamilton

Cabinet meetings were always tense - stakes high and tempers higher. Too often they would end with Washington standing in-between Hamilton and Jefferson, forcing them apart. 

Today the tension was of a different kind, heavier somehow. 

The meeting ended, and Alexander went to go back to his office, but was stopped with a yank on the fabric of his sleeve. He didn’t turn around when he heard a familiar voice say, “Sir, I was wondering if you could perhaps meet with my in my office for a short while. There is something I would like to ask you to look at and see if it’s worth your time and attention.”

Alex pulled his arms away from Jefferson, and turned to face the other man, “Lead the way.”

The interaction might have seemed odd had any of their co-workers been paying attention. Hamilton and Jefferson were always at each other’s throats, waiting for the moment of weakness and the perfect opportunity to pounce. Their fights were vicious, and the more they knew about each other, the lower the blows got.

But this was a different sort of arrangement for the two. It had started as Jefferson’s attempt to find blackmail on Hamilton. He has been snooping in his rival’s office when Hamilton had walked in with his wife in tow. 

Hamilton was one to frequent extended office hours, so his presence was not the oddity - the peculiarity was found in the rope tying his wrists behind his back and in his closed eyes. Jefferson had been silent as he kneeled in front of Hamilton’s desk, and remained so as his eyes drifted up to meet Eliza’s gaze.

Jefferson had met Eliza before, but had never talked with her enough to form a valid opinion. He was still surprised when she moved a finger to her lips to signal his silence, and walked Hamilton forward to sit him in the desk chair. 

When Jefferson got up to leave, Eliza shook her head, and pointed toward her husband. He sat back on his heels, and watched as the man he fought against on a daily basis became soft and pliant as Eliza began to trace his face with her delicate fingers.

Jefferson was struggling with the thought that this wasn’t something he was meant to see, and disobeying Eliza’s order - because that was what it was. There was nothing sexual about what happened that night, but Jefferson had never seen Hamilton as relaxed as when he was sitting in that chair with his wrists bound, melting into Eliza’s touch and voice.

An unknown number had texted him that night, “Alexander doesn’t know you were there, and you can keep it that way. I gave him permission to start to explore the other side of our arrangement. He was confused, but if you decide to approach him, I believe it will become clear. Know that if you do that, you will be the one in his place. My husband’s submission is mine and mine alone”

Thomas saved the number in his phone, and did his best to put him out of mind. 

The next day at work had been confrontation free. Every time he locked eyes with Hamilton he’d picture the man’s face as relaxed as it had been the night before, and he’d think back to Eliza’s text and start to imagine what he’d look like with the quiet dominance that Eliza carried.

Jefferson managed a week before he burst into Hamilton’s office. He shut the door behind him, and stood across the desk from Hamilton. Thomas took in a deep breath, and met the man’s wide gaze, “I was here, that night when your wife brought you in.”

Hamilton had reared up, leaning forward with his hands splayed out on the desk in front of him he said, “And just how are you going to use that against me, Jefferson?” Hamilton’s mouth curled around Jefferson’s name like it was the worst curse imaginable. 

Thomas forced himself to relax, knowing that to get what he wanted he’d need to take care, “She texted me, after I got home. She told me I didn’t have to tell you, or that,” Thomas took in a deep breath, bracing himself, “or that I could ask you to do that for me.”

The anger faded from Hamilton’s features, but the surprise remained, “You’ve been talking with my wife and now you want to sub for me.”

Thomas nodded, “Not sexually. You’re a busy man, and you lead a stressful life. I have never seen you as relaxed as you were with her, sitting right there while she barely even touched you.”

Hamilton’s fingers started to tap a pattern on the wood of his desk, “This requires trust, you know. You can’t distrust anything I do, you have to be able to let go of everything and trust that I’ll take care of it for you, at least in the short times we’ll be together.”

“I know.”

Hamilton grabbed a pen and started to click it while he stared at Jefferson. A moment passed, and then Alex nodded, “Well, let’s start now. Do you have anything urgent today?”

He thought about his schedule, and shook his head. 

Hamilton reached his hand across the table, and kissed Thomas’ knuckles when Thomas’ hand found its way in his. He pulled Thomas around to the other side of the desk, and then looked him in the eye for a moment before he said, “Kneel.”

And so Jefferson spent 30 minutes kneeling at Hamilton’s side while the man worked. His knees hurt, but he managed to relax into it. When he was directed to stand up, he felt calmer than he had in months, even as he tried to shake off the stiffness in his joints. Hamilton’s hand had encircled his wrist when he stood up, “You did very good for me, Thomas. I want you to think about this. Don’t come back until you’ve decided if this is something you enjoy. If that helped you, in any way, tell me. If it was a waste of time, keep that in mind. Research this, and look into the different types of relationships and actions. I’m going to talk to Eliza about this in the meantime. If you don’t reach a decision by a week from today, I will assume that you have realized this is not something you want.”

Thomas had nodded, and after Hamilton let go of his wrist, he went back to his own office.

That had happened two years ago, and since then their relationship had grown stronger. Thomas knew he could trust Hamilton with his life, and he knew the man would continue to fight him every step of the way in a professional setting. It was a strange status quo, but one Thomas had no trouble following.

Thomas lead the way, and he turned to Hamilton after he heard the door click shut, “Sir.”

Hamilton stepped forward, “What do you need?”

He turned toward his desk, and unlocked the bottom drawer. He pulled out the dark rope he kept there and offered it to Hamilton, “I do not have any meetings scheduled for the rest of the day, and neither do you. I need to think.”

Hamilton nodded, and took the rope from his hands. 

Soon he was kneeling on a cushion he kept in the same drawer as the rope, with his lower arms bound and attached to the thick band rope knotted about his waist. The pressure against his torso was just enough he could feel it when he breathed, but not enough to restrict.

Thomas closed his eyes, and focused on the sound of his breathing and Alex’s fingers going across the keys as the man worked on his project. Occasional hands would find their way into Thomas’s hair, and he’d lean up into the touch.

When Hamilton decided he has spent enough time in that position, the ropes were undone, and hands were digging into his shoulders in a massage, “You did very good for me, Thomas. You look so pretty when you’re sitting so still for me, tied up like that. Did I give you what you wanted?”

He nodded, “You did. Thank you, sir.”

Thomas was pulled up onto his feet, and Hamilton straightened his tie and helped him back into his jacket, “Eliza would like you to join us for dinner.”  
He nodded, accepting the kiss on his cheek, “Usual time of 7?”

Alexander smiled and nodded, and Thomas smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by ashilrak


	2. foreplay, hamilton/lafayette

Gil and Alex wrestle through the door and into the tiny apartment they share with far too many people. The others are out, which means the perfect opportunity to get a little private time in - just Gil, Alex, a couple of growlers, and a TV on in the background because the apartment feels too empty without the extra voices.

Alex has knotted his hands in Gil’s shirt and started to giggle. “Listen,” he breathes, and it tickles Gil’s cheek. “Listen - I want this off you -”

“I told you tonight was my night.” Gil absently kisses down along his jaw. His Alex, dear boy, is all fire - ripples of magma coursing steadily over crackling rock, the dangerous hiss of steam rising from a vent in the earth. There is so much heat and hunger in him that it seems impossible to quench; but Gil is water, Gil is the gentle rolling of an iceberg as the sides slough off into the sea, and he is determine to sate the insatiable.

“So it’s your night - I don’t get to touch you?”

“It means,” Gil says, nipping dangerously at the lobe of Alex’s ear, “that you’re going to listen to what I tell you instead of jumping straight for my dick.”

“I can’t help it that I need it in me this bad.” Alex is whining, now, shoving impatient hands up under Gil’s shirt. He manages to get far enough to thumb a nipple before Gil grabs his wrist.

“No,” he says. “Be patient.”

Alex just laughs at the absurdity of that request.

Gil drags him to the bedroom - far too small, shared by far too many people - and pushes him down onto the massive bed. When there are four bodies rolling around trying to get comfortable, it seems narrow and cramped, but with just the two of them it’s massive, expansive, almost hedonistic.

Alex whines again, high-pitched and drawn out, and wriggles his hips enticingly. He’s hard already - Gil can see the line of his cock clearly, and it takes an enormous amount of willpower not to jump on it and fuck himself on it.

Patience. There is indulgence in control.

He starts with Alex’s lips. He kisses them firmly, Alex’s stubble rough on the parts of his face where his own beard is shaved down, and as Alex tilts his head and becomes pliant he nips and suckles at those swollen lips. At first, Alex tries to touch him - but Gil pulls back long enough to grab both wrists and pin them down against the bed, and all of a sudden control is  _ his _ and he wonders just how to best undo his boy.

Gil bites Alex’s lower lip and tugs. Between his teeth, he manages to lisp, “if I let your wrists go, will you behave?”

“No,” Alex says immediately. Gil leans back as if to get up and leave and Alex hurriedly amends, “yes, yes I will, I’ll be good for you -”

Chuckling deep in his throat, Gil releases both wrists and sets his hands to work unbuttoning Alex’s shirt. He kisses every inch of skin as it comes bare before him, taking his sweet time between buttons; he is a sloppy kisser, open mouthed, sucking and nipping and licking as he goes, and soon there are half a dozen love bites running the length of Alex’s chest down nearly all the way to his navel. The final button pops open beneath Gil’s fingers and he sinks his teeth into the sensitive skin just beneath Alex’s belly button. Slowly, languidly, he sucks a livid bruise there; and Lord knows just how tender that spot is, because Alex is writhing and keening and jerking his hips, yet Gil refuses to ease off.

When he finally pulls away with an obscene popping noise, the bruise is angry purple and Alex is panting.

“Don’t stop,” he breathes, grinding his hips up.

Gil knows exactly what he means. He moves back up instead, ignoring Alex’s groan of protest, and kisses each nipple. They’re peaked and stiff; he teases one with his tongue and the other with his fingertip, moving both appendages in slow circles over them. Alex moans and bucks his hips, and when Gil stops licking and sucks instead, the moan changes, becomes more gutteral, more desperate. A hand finds its way into Gil’s hair and tugs, hard.

“Please don’t stop,” Alex whispers, and there - right there - that was the moment Gil was waiting for. He’s never asked for more of this before; it’s always been a race straight to the dick.

_ I could get used to this, _ he thinks, as he grazes his teeth gently against Alex’s nipple. His reward is a hoarse, barking groan that rumbles deep in Alex’s chest.

Gil switches sides and sucks Alex’s other nipple into his mouth. He flicks his tongue across it in short, quick strokes, then breaks to lick firmly with the flat of his tongue, breaks back to flicking. He switches without any warning, without any pattern, and before long Alex is huffing and arching his back and begging in incoherent mumbles for something Gil can’t quite understand.

That begging is delicious, and Gil rewards him by running his fingertips down along Alex’s sides, from his rib cage to his hip flexors. Alex’s hips buckle and jerk.

“Do that again,” he breathes.

So Gil strokes his fingers back up and then rakes them back down, and this time he keeps going, running them down to Alex’s knees before rubbing up his thighs with the heels of his hands. The muscles are tight; Gil massages them, rubbing in long, smooth passes, and sets about undoing the button on Alex’s pants with his teeth.

“What are you -” Alex lifts his head enough to look down at Gil and makes eye contact. He shudders down the length of his spine and throws his head back against the bed, groaning, “oh, Gil,  _ Jesus, _ I can’t believe …”

The button pops open and Gil grips the zipper of the fly in his teeth to tug it down. As he pulls, Alex’s cock slips free and stands up, barely held back by the loose cotton of his boxers. Gil can clearly see a wet spot near the tip.

“You’re soaked,” he says, planting a kiss on Alex’s thigh so close to his cock he can feel the heat of it.

“That’s your fault,” Alex mutters.

“You’re welcome,” says Gil, and he strips Alex’s pants off and yanks down his boxers.

Alex makes a cracked noise and asks, “are you finally going to do something about that?”

Gil grins. “No.”

He pushes Alex’s knees apart and presses kisses to the insides of his thighs. The skin here is soft and unmarred, dotted with a freckle or two, and Gil sets about sucking marks into the silky skin. He takes his time about it; each bruise needs to be absolutely perfect, and once he’s left a haphazard trail of about half a dozen from knee to hip, he moves back to suck the first one darker.

Alex cracks, then, and he begs, “please, Gil -  _ please,” _ and Gil is not merciless, he’s not unkind. He kisses the first mark, the one closest to Alex’s knee, and then slinks up to kiss his lips again.

For a moment all he does is kiss the swollen lips. Then he wraps a hand around Alex’s cock and jerks hard and fast.

It takes about half a dozen strokes and then Alex is coming apart, semen spattering hot and viscous over his stomach. Gil purrs with approval as Alex goes limp, breathing hard. He’s liquid with the pleasure, the heat, for once, gone from his hungry eyes.

“Holy shit,” Alex says, a thousand years later, as he comes back to himself. “Holy shit.”

“I told you,” Gil says.

“No need to sound so smug -”

“Ah, but there is,” Gil tells him. “Because it’s my turn next, and I hope you were learning from what I was doing.”

Alex grins and leans up to kiss him. “I’m gonna blow your fucking mind,” he murmurs against Gil’s lips.

“I’m betting on it,” Gil whispers back, and inside, he feels a rising heat, like steam hissing from a crack in the earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blame me, Alex, for this. yell at me on [tumblr](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	3. blindfold; whamilton

Alex flexes his wrists, tries to pull them apart, but the cuffs are sturdy and don’t slip or break off. He flutters his eyelashes, feels them brush against the cloth over his eyes. He feels something nudge at his bottom lip and drops his jaw in response, welcoming whatever Washington is offering. 

Alex’s nose hits Washington’s pelvis just as he begins to choke, tip breaching his throat. Washington’s hand keeps him there, fully enveloping his dick. Saliva drips out of the corners of his mouth. He starts struggling soon, face turning red from lack of oxygen, before Washington lets him go and he pulls back, gasping for breath and shaking like a leaf. 

Washington chuckles, running a hand through Alex’s hair and circling him. He still hasn’t spoken. Alex drops his head, swallows, and shifts his legs more closed. His breath hitches in surprise as a foot catches his knee and forces his thighs back open. Then Washington backs up once more, circling. Alex stays alert, ears straining to catch every footfall, every rustle of clothing - because Washington may have divulged Alex entirely of every garment on his body, but he himself has not dropped a single article. 

And yet he’s still caught by surprise when a hand twists in his hair, yanks his head back, exposing his neck and causing his jaw to drop in a soft “oh” of surprise. A thumb strokes his bottom lip, and pushes inside his mouth. Alex wraps his lips around it. His tongue swirls, and he carefully keeps his teeth back even as Washington tugs his hair - and his head - further back into a more uncomfortable position. 

“Good boy,” Washington murmurs, the first words he’d uttered all night. He pulls the finger from Alex’s mouth and drags it down Alex’s chin, leaving a trail of spit and spreading it around Alex’s lips. Alex exhales in a huff, mouth curving into a smile even as Washington pulls down on his lower lip. “So pretty for me, hm?” 

“Yessir,” Alex breathes. “For you.”

“Hands and knees,” Washington says a moment later, letting up his grip on Alex’s hair. A click as he unlocks the cuffs. Alex flexes his wrists before scrambling to obey, falling forward and almost kneading the rough carpet. His knees protest, having been in nearly the same position for too long. He can feel imprints left on them by the cushion he’d been kneeling on, and knows his palms will soon be in the same - if not worse - state. 

“Good boy.” Washington’s hand leaves Alex’s hair completely, and he goes back to circling. Alex winces. Washington must notice, because he begins speaking again, whispering about the things he’d do to Alex, the ways he’d take him - over the desk, against the wall, suspended from the ceiling - all only if Alex would be a  _ good boy _ , only if Alex  _ behaves _ . 

Alex inhales, exhales and drops his head, and clothes rustle in front of him, a finger lifts his chin. “Color?” Washington murmurs softly, no inflection in his voice at all, as if he hadn’t just been speaking of how Alex’s ass feels around his dick. 

“Green,” Alex says. 

Washington circles around and Alex feels him run a finger along the top of his ass before resting his palm down and squeezing, massaging and pulling him open, blowing lightly on Alex’s asshole and making him squirm. A cold, wet finger prods him soon after, slipping inside him easily. Alex pushes back, wordlessly begging for more. Washington complies, adding a second finger. Alex moans, feeling Washington slowly work them in and out. “Good?” Washington whispers, and presses kisses to Alex’s shoulders before adding a third. 

“Mhm.”

“On your back,” Washington says. “I want to see your face.”

“Unfair, isn’t it? That you can see my face but I can’t see you.” Alex complies anyhow.

“Hush,” Washington says, but Alex can hear the smile dancing across his voice. 

The head of his dick nudges Alex’s entrance, and Alex relaxes. Washington pushes halfway in, shallowly thrusting, and Alex moans, struggling not to buck his hips. 

“Please, sir, more - pleaseplease - I can take it, sir -”

Washington leans forward, bites Alex in the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. “You look so goddamn  _ pretty _ ,” Washington murmurs, and pushes all the way in.

“Fuck,” Alex bites out, and hastily shakes his head when Washington stills. “Nono keep going, please, green green green, fucking green -”

“Of course,” Washington murmurs, and there’s another pause where Alex hears and feels Washington brace himself against both him and the floor before -

“ _ Fuck, _ ” Alex moans, clenching down as Washington fucks him into the floor, fast and hard, no relief given. It feels fucking  _ awesome  _ and it completely takes his ability to speak (which he’s not that happy about, he doesn’t think on it much since he’s got a dick up his ass and fuck, it’s a good dick).

“My beautiful boy,” Washington grunts, and Alex smiles again, bites his lip,  _ moans.  _ Washington sighs. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he says, and catches Alex’s mouth into a kiss. It’s awkward honestly, because Washington is still moving and their noses and chins are bumping, but Alex gets his tongue in Washington’s mouth for a split second and it’s good. This is good.

Washington hits deep then, and stays, stills. Alex feels him throb and feels him spill inside him, and then he sees stars and his own dick spurts liquid onto his stomach.

“Damn,” Alex manages. “Damn.”

“Yeah,” Washington agrees, and then he’s slipping the blindfold off Alex’s head. 

Alex blinks at the dim light of the setting sun and stretches, letting himself fall back and lifting his arms. He studies the imprints on his elbows and hopes he doesn’t have many on his back.

Washington slips out slowly, and Alex clenches, tries to keep him inside, but Washington just chuckles. A finger swipes at the mess on Alex’s abdomen and then he’s holding it in front of Alex’s face. Alex eyes him, before smirking and licking it, cleaning his own come off Washington’s finger. Washington’s watching him half-lidded. Alex takes the whole finger in his mouth and gives a hollow suck before pulling off with a pop and stretching back languidly once more, like a cat. 

“Up for round two?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written by theGirlNightwing


	4. Spanking; Whamilton

Alexander didn’t know what to expect when he was called into the General’s tent, but he knew it was likely to be unpleasant by conventional standards. They had lost the battle, and congress hadn’t been responding the way they wished. The General’s temper had been rising, and considering it had been Lafayette who fetched him, even the frenchman’s smiles and calming touches weren’t serving to quell the man’s temper.

Alexander had always needed a strong hand, and the General was more than capable of providing such a thing.

He was let into the tent, to find the General seated behind his desk, waiting for him. There was a fire in his eyes, and a smirk on his face that told Alexander his presence had been requested, and was not a decision made by Lafayette.

The General said not a word, but gave a pleased nod when Alexander knelt at his side. A hand went to his hair, and rested on the top of his head. The General looked at him for a couple of moments before Alexander found his head being pulled back, and the hand yanking his hair from its queue.

“You’re very pretty for me, Alexander.” He whimpered at the sound of his name passing the General’s lips, “But you’re very pretty for everyone, aren’t you? It’s not as much of a gift, is it, if everyone is getting the same thing?”

“I can be extra pretty for you, sir.”

The General removed his hand from Alexander’s hair, “Prove it.”

There were several things Alexander could do. The General liked him with his lose, when he was on his knees and begging for the man’s touch. The General liked to see him possessed, enjoyed covering him in marks and bruises almost as much as Alexander liked getting them, and feeling them the next several days.

He remained kneeling on the ground, starting to feel it in on his knees. He lifted his hands to his coat, and looked up at the General with a question in his eyes. When the General nodded, he slowly removed his coat, and folded it and started a pile on the ground next to him.

He added to the pile until his top half was bare. Alexander looked up at the General, “Might I stand, sir?”

“No.”

Alexander stayed where he was, feeling the cool air of the tent against his bare skin. The General’s gaze was still burning, but with less intensity. The man was more than willing to force Alexander to wait his out. 

He didn’t know how much time passed, but when a hand on his shoulder pulled him upright to a standing position, his knees were stiff and sore. The General’s hand made its way down from his shoulder until it sat at the subtle curve of his waist, and tugged him forward to straddle the General’s lap.

It was one of Alexander’s favorite positions to find himself in. He was pulled forward until his chin rested on the General’s shoulder, with one strong hand covered his ass. He could hear the scritch-scratching of a quill, and held back a sigh at the wait the sound promised

Alexander had never been good at staying still. It was difficult enough while he was kneeling on the ground, but when pressed against the warmth of his Commander, it required even more concentration. 

More concentration than he had, as evidenced by the small motions he couldn’t quite prevent his hips from making. The General didn’t say anything, but Alexander knew his behavior was noticed. He might not have been told to stay still, but the order had been implied. 

The General stopped writing, and moved the parchment into a pile. The hand on Alexander’s ass shifted to his hip and gripped tight, stilling his motions, “You’ve been misbehaving.”

Alexander could feel the General’s hardness under him. He said nothing. 

“You’re a little minx, trying to distract me while I’m working. I was going to reward you, for the hard work you’ve done these past couple weeks, but I’ve changed my mind.”

Alexander bit down on his lip to hold down the moan that threatened to escape him.

Before he knew what was happening, Alexander was being moved on the General’s lap, until he was laying across it, ass in the air and hard cock rubbing against the man’s strong thigh. His breeches were shoved down, and his Commander’s hand was resting on his bare skin rather than the layer of fabric.

“Now, Alexander, you know the rules. If it becomes too much, say ‘congress’, is that understood.” 

Alexander nodded.

“Is that understood?”

“Yessir.”

“Count.”

The sound of skin on skin was more startling than the contact, and Alexander’s “one” came out as choked as the force of the slap pushed against the General’s lap just the right way.

Another slap, right next to the first. “Two.”

A third. A fourth. A fifth.

By the ninth, Alexander’s lip was bleeding it from where he was biting it to hold back his moans. He was sure his skin was as red as an apple at the beginning of fall, and he would feel the ache every time he sat down for the next week at least. And he was so, so close. But the General hadn’t given him permission to reach completion, and so he shifted his efforts to keeping his hips as still as possible.

The expected blow didn’t come, and Alexander could feel the sting on his skin. The General rested his hand on the sensitive skin and said, “Now, I can feel you leaking against my thigh, Alexander. I’m sure you’ve left a damp spot on my breeches.”

The General shifted his knee purposefully against Alexander’s cock and Alexander groaned.

“You could probably come for right now, couldn’t you, my pretty Alexander?”

Alexander moaned and nodded his head in agreement.

“Don’t forget to count.”

The last blow was the strongest, and Alexander’s “ten” was almost unintelligible for how wrecked he sounded as he came against the General’s thigh.

The General’s hand rubbed soothing circles into his lower back, “You were so good for me, Alexander.”

He was pulled back up onto the General’s lap, and held against the man’s strong chest. Alexander nuzzled his face against his Commander’s fabric covered shoulder and said, “Only for you, sir.”

“Only for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By ashilrak


	5. masturbation with a christmas ornament; jeffmads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tjeffs has some Fun Alone Time (until he's not alone)

Thomas eyes the icicle ornament James bought him. He really shouldn’t. He  _ really _ shouldn’t. 

He’s going to. 

_ Oops. _

Five minutes later and he’s rocking down onto it, shuddering and moaning. The stretch is  _ heavenly _ , and it’s been awhile since - 

He threw out his toys when Martha died, not wanting to them about them, or the way she’d smile, her hair falling over her eyes as she gently twists her wrists, gaze locked with his as he unravels under her. The way she kissed along his body and trailed her fingers up his thigh and licked her way into his mouth… The way her hips rolled on top of his… 

He imitates the motion she made, holding the ornament tightly at the base. “Oh,” He murmurs, and does it again. “Ah, damn.” It feels good, inside him, the tip not too pointy, the sides textured like coils. He clenches down on it, something that had felt good on the giving end, and gasps in surprise.  _ God. _

He’s still only a quarter way down the thing, and the base is wide as fuck. He doesn’t even know if he can take it all, since the last time he got fucked was a year after she died - years and years ago - by a stranger he met in a pub, drunk off his ass. He sinks down further, moaning at the feeling, and shifts his hips forward to accommodate. White sparks against the black of his eyelids as he manages to hit his prostate, clenching and moving his hips in little circles, trying to hit it again. “Shit,” he mumbles. “Shit.” He lifts up a little, and drops down again, fucking himself on the thing. 

Eyes closed, thinking about the time Martha had laid down, harness secured tightly about her thighs and crotch, slender hand holding the toy still as he slowly lowered onto it, eyelids fluttering, little gasps escaping his mouth as she smirked up at him, hand reaching up to brush a coil of hair away from his face. A hand that is… considerably rougher than he remembers. He frowns, looks down. 

His breath catches. 

Sparse stubble on his chin, coarse hair, eyes burning with lust, looking like he could devour Thomas whole. 

“James,” Thomas moans. He throws his head back and runs a hand up his chest, a whisper of a suggestion. He pauses there, wraps his fingers around his neck and squeezes lightly, choking back a groan of pleasure. 

He creeps his hand up further, pressing against his lips with two fingers and pushing them inside his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue and still moving against the ornament. “Fuck,” He says around them, muffled. He closes his eyes once more, gives in to the urge and imagines the ornament is James’ cock, and it’s James’ hand on his hip instead of his own, pushing him up and down, fucking him onto it roughly. James would smirk at him, would snap his hips up when Thomas last expects it. Would pull him down for a kiss and surprise him with a bite.  _ Fuck. _ And if actual James walked in on him, heard him moaning his name… 

He thinks about it. Disgust, maybe?  _ You’re such a slut, _ he might say. Thomas would stop, protest, but James would shake his head, inch closer.  _ Mm, since you sounded so eager for me… _ He’d take Thomas’ dick, jerk it roughly, kiss him to silence his protests. He’d take his own dick out, weave his fingers into Thomas’ hair, and force him to bend over, still impaled on the icicle, and take it into his mouth. Thomas groans, a hand gripping his hair. He breathes shallowly, lets out a raspy, “James…” 

Something smashes. 

His eyes fly open, and immediately he locks gazes with - fuck.

Right.

James’ jaw is dropped, and his eyes are fixed on Thomas’ crotch. Thomas winces, curls in on himself. “Shitshitshitfuck, sorry, I’m sorry -”

Another ornament - a gingerbread house by the looks of it - is lying on the ground in pieces. Thomas grimaces. “Ah, I’ll just -” He begins to lift off the icicle, wincing as James’ eyes zero in on it.

“No,” James says, finding his voice. He clears his throat, orders, “keep going.” He hesitates. “I’d love to hear all the things you fantasize about me doing to you.”

“Oh,” Thomas whimpers, and licks his lips at the sight of the tent in James’ pants. “ _ Oh.” _

“Red if you want me to leave. Stoplight system? Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I -”

James shuts the door. 

Thomas doesn’t move. 

James raises an eyebrow. “Well?”

“I -”

“Go on, Thomas,” James urges. “I want to see you fuck yourself on the ornament I gave you, I want to see you moan my name -”

“Fuck, James,” Thomas says, and starts to really  _ move _ . 

“Beautiful,” James purrs, and Thomas moans louder, pleased. 

Thomas pushes his hair out of his face, pulls his mouth closed and tries to adhere to that praise, trying to present as pretty as possible. 

James laughs. “Pretty boy,” He teases. “Always have to look your best, don’t you. Can’t ever look even the slightest bit  _ dirty _ .”

Thomas bites his lip to keep from spilling words, words about James, oh god, so many words about James… how Thomas imagines he’d fuck him, how James would choke him on his dick, hold him down and make him  _ take _ until he can’t take anymore. 

“I’d get you dirty, pretty boy,” James says, and Thomas shudders. 

“Yeah,” He breathes. “Promise?”

“Of course,” James says. “Pinky promise.” He smiles at Thomas, leers. “But only if you can come without touching yourself.”

Thomas splutters, and James laughs again. “You can do it,” He encourages. Lets the smirk cover his face. “I can leave, if that’d make it easier.”

“No,” Thomas says quickly. “No. Please don’t.”

“Alright.” James comes close, lifts his hand and makes as if to touch Thomas’ cheek. Thomas’ eyes flutter shut and he leans forward, feeling the ghost of its presence, but then he’s leaning too far and his eyes snap open and James is far away again, laughing at him. “I’m not touching you, pretty boy,” James says. “You haven’t earned that.”

“Fuck,” Thomas says, and the next movement he makes presses the thing to his prostate again and he sees stars and  _ oh fuck that feels good. _

“What were you thinking about, when I caught you moaning my name?” James asks, and he hasn’t touched himself yet, doesn’t look like he intends to. Thomas yearns for his touch, aches for it, anything would work. A finger on his cheek, even. Just  _ something _ . James is  _ right there _ and he can’t  _ touch  _ him and it  _ hurts. _

“I was - I thought of you, I imagined I was - I was riding you,” Thomas says, face flushing red. He hates talking like this. Hates voicing it. 

“Go on,” James urges. 

“And I imaged you - walked in on me.”

“Which I did.”

“Yes. But you - fake you - called me a - a -”

“Slut?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you like that? Being called slut, being degraded, pretty boy?” James moves back towards Thomas, and Thomas bares his neck, tilting his head back slightly. James tugs Thomas’ hair, once to test and then yanks him back. “Hm? Answer me, pretty boy.”

“Yeah, I - I do.”

“Yes what?”

Thomas flushes further, bites his lip, looks to the ceiling and whispers, “Yes sir.”

“Good boy,” James purrs. “Continue.”

Thomas flounders for a moment before realizing what James wants. “You touched me, didn’t care for how I felt. Made me shut up by -” He swallows. “You pulled me down and -”

“Fucked your face?”

“Yes.” Thomas pauses. “Sir.”

James chuckles, and Thomas groans as he moves again in a way that hits his prostate, clenching down and rolling his hips, and  _ oh oh oh _ \- 

“Come for me,” James murmurs, and his lips are so close to Thomas’ ear and it feels so fucking  _ good _ and -

He moans, come spilling onto his stomach, and collapses, limp, into James’ arms. 

“You did good,” James murmurs encouragingly. “C’mon, up.” He helps lift Thomas off the ornament. Thomas sits down hard on a nearby chair, and winces. 

“Ah, do you want…?”

“No,” James says. “I’m good.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Just relax.”

“I’m sorry about the ornament you dropped -”

“Don’t be, it’s fine.” He laughs. “It was for Hamilton. We can just give him that one,” a nod indicating the icicle, “and not tell him.”

“Evil,” Thomas snorts. 

“Thats me,” James says. 

“Sit down and cuddle me,” Thomas demands.

James eyes him and sighs. “Well, alright, I  _ guess.” _

“Fucker.”

“Love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written by thegirlnightwing


	6. Gangbang; Washingharem

Lafayette performed well, and Lafayette deserved to be rewarded.

The young marquis had no idea what was waiting for him once he arrived at the Commander’s tent. Lafayette was a unique man with a unique set of proclivities. He was a very confident man, and radiated a sort of dominance and superiority most could only ever dream of, and never expect to find in real life. He had been raised on a pedestal, and had been faced with constant scrutiny his entire life.

One of the man’s, he was really a boy for how young he was, secret pleasures was in being knocked off of that pedestal. 

General Washington’s group of young men who served under him were very close-knit, and were always prepared to help one another out should a situation ever call for assistance. This preparation extended toward every type of situation. 

Usually, when these situations leaned toward the more unspoken aspects of life, there was a pattern they easily fell into. Hamilton’s stubborn attitude needed a strong hand to be dealt with, and a reminder that his mouth was talented with more than just words was always appreciated. Tallmadge was always a treat, for he was always so ready face and his pretty mouth would let out the prettiest of sounds. Laurens was a stubborn, nearly as much as Hamilton, but he was graceful and recognized when he was being guided by his betters. 

They all responded so well to the General, but Washington wasn’t always there, and Lafayette had stepped up in his place to take care of the boys on more than one occasion. Lafayette only truly submitted for their Commander. He didn’t always lord over the others, but they had never stepped up to a higher standing than that of equals during bedplay. 

Lafayette loved the feeling of safety that came when he gave himself to the General; could trust the man to take care of him, to use him. It was a feeling he knew the others recognized, and it was one that Lafayette craved. The General was the only one who gave it to him, the others had never stepped up, but Lafayette ached for they day they decided to do so.

But Lafayette had performed well, and Lafayette was going to be rewarded in the best possible way. 

It had been the General’s idea - he recognized the longing in Lafayette’s eyes for what is was, and he knew just how well the boy behaved for him. The others had been performing well at their own duties, that they too deserved a treat, and that treat would come in the form of Lafayette.

Lafayette walked into the tent, and saw his four lovers standing in a line, waiting for him. They all stood with straight backs and cocky grins, confidence evident in the way the way they held themselves. 

The General’s deep voice rang throughout the tent, “Ah, Lafayette, we’ve been waiting for you.”

It was a familiar tone that Lafayette recognized, one reserved for the most intimate of occasions, and one that had his knees going to the ground as soon as the words reached his ears. He could hear footsteps approaching him, but his eyes were only on George, who was silent.

A hand brushed the back of his neck in a movement that had Lafayette shivering, “I’ve dreamed of you like this, and when the General told us I’d finally get to have you, I wondered what I had done to deserve such a gift.”

It was Hamilton, but it was a Hamilton he hadn’t met before. Lafayette knew he shouldn’t have been surprised; Hamilton took control of whatever situation he was in, it was only in the bedroom he submitted so beautifully. It made sense that such a tendency would translate so well.

Hamilton’s hand moved to his collar, and started to undo his neckcloth in slow, assured motions. The General remained standing in front of the desk, but Ben moved forward until he stood with the ties of his breeches level with Lafayette’s eyes. His hand went to the top of Lafayette’s hair, and tangled itself in the hair. 

Lafayette couldn’t move for fear of pulling away from either of their touches - Hamilton’s hand had returned to his neck, and if he leaned forward to nuzzle at Ben’s crotch as he wanted to, he would be upsetting Alexander. And so Lafayette remained still. 

Hamilton pulled off his jacket, and his vest, and once Lafayette was kneeling in his shirtsleeves, Ben pulled him up to a standing position. Alexander pulled his hair out its queue, and ran fingers through the strands. 

He watched as Benjamin and Alexander stepped away and the General took Ben’s place. He had less than a moment to contemplate their proximity before there was a harsh mouth pressing against his own and a hand tight against his scalp. This was a contact he was used to, and a moan tore its way out his throat.

While Lafayette was distracted another set of hands made its way down the front of his breeches, and he pushed his hips into the pressure. It was a mess of different hands, and the air of the tent was filled with gasps as the five men found themselves entangled around each other, removing their clothing. Lafayette was in the middle, and each inch of his own bared skin was covered with hands and lips and teeth.     

The General took him first, spread out over his desk, shoving papers out of the way. This was familiar for Lafayette, but no less miraculous. He wrapped his legs around his Commander’s waist, and reveled in the tight grip on his hips and the teeth at his shoulder. The General reached completion, but prevented Lafayette from reaching his own.

Alexander took the man’s place, and the fire in the man’s eyes was a new kind of delectable when viewed from his perspective. The slide was slick with the General’s own release, and there was something filthier in that than in the actual action. Alexander pressed him back against the wood of the desk, pinning his wrists rather than his hips, and Lafayette hoped there’d be bruises in the morning. 

With his wrists held in place, he was unable to reach a grip down around his own weeping cock, and so Lafayette was near tears with need. John took Alexander’s place, pulled Lafayette into his lap where he was sitting in the General’s chair. The muscles in Lafayette’s thighs burned, but the sensation of John rolling his hips of and the sound of the man’s moans in his ear made the discomfort more than worth it.

There were tears in his eyes from the need he felt, but it was ignored as John shouted his orgasm, and Lafayette found Ben between his legs, with a gentle kiss being pressed to his lips.

Lafayette sobbed when a hand finally twisted around his cock, and he didn’t even try to stop the sound he made when he came or the litany of french endearments that flowed from his lips in the afterglow.

He was laid out across the desk, and he closed his eyes and enjoyed the feelings of hands and lips worshipping his body and the whispers of praise in his ears.

Lafayette felt thoroughly used, and it was blissful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by ashilrak


	7. rimming; hamilfayette

“Mon ami,” Lafayette says softly, catching Alex’s arm. Alex, who had been in the process of storming out of the tent, whirls around, furious, until he sees who it is.

_ Fuck. _

“Meet me in my tent tonight,” Lafayette says, and releases him. Alex scowls, but continues storming off. 

He might’ve really fucked up this time.

He and Lafayette have a standing arrangement - a mutual agreement, a secret between the two of them that they both have sworn not to tell. This being their regular hook-ups for tension release. 

He goes about the rest of his day jittery, anticipating eagerly. He slipped on mud once, absentmindedly wandered into the wrong tent too many times, and shot wildly off target in a practice. 

“I think you need to rest,” Washington says quietly. 

“No, sir, I’m fine -” 

“Hamilton, you nearly shot my hat off my head.” He holds up said hat.

“Sorry, sir, but I swear -!”

“Hamilton. Go rest.”

“...okay. Yes, sir.”

“Thank you,” Washington says. 

Alex goes back to his tent miffed, but freezes in the entryway when he sees Lafayette.

The Marquis is lounging on Alex’s bed, flicking raisins into his mouth. “Hamilton.”

“Sir,” Alex says carefully. He steps inside and closes the tent flaps carefully. “Isn’t this risky?”

“Only a little,” Lafayette says, smiling charmingly. “Are you  _ scared, mon petite lion? _ ”

“No,” Alex snaps back immediately. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Not of me, of getting caught.”

Alex bites his lip and doesn’t answer, instead stripping off his jacket and outer layers until he’s only in his shirt and breeches. Lafayette sits up and beckons him over. 

“Stop being so tight laced,” He says, and yanks off Alex’s shirt. Buttons go flying, and there’s a loud  _ rip _ noise. 

Alex squawks in protest, and pushes away. “What the hell was that?”

“Getting your shirt off,” Lafayette says flippantly. 

“That was my  _ only shirt, you dickbag. _ ”

“I’ll give you my spare. We are the same size, non?”

“Yeah, we are. But that doesn’t mean you can just -”

“We are not here to cater to your wants,  _ cher. _ We are here because of bad behavior in a meeting with our esteemed General.”

Alex blanches. “I didn’t - that wasn’t -”

“Shh,” Lafayette places a finger over Alex’s lips, and smirks when Alex moves to protest. “Pants off,  _ mon petite.” _

Alex stumbles back to comply. When he does, he’s pushed onto the bed and Lafayette is looming, arms caging Alex, eyes drifting southwards.

“Hands above your head,” Lafayette orders, and pushes Alex’s legs up so his knees are spread and by his ears. 

“Laf,” Alex says uncertainly, but Laf just winks, so Alex does what he asks. 

And then something wet is circling Alex’s hole. He squeaks, and flinches away, before realizing - tongue. Oh.

“Alex?”

“Green,” Alex says.

Laf goes back to what he was doing, licking around before delving his tongue inside. 

“ _ Oh _ ,” Alex moans, and almost moves his hands to press Laf’s head down and further inside before he remembers and yanks his arms back in place. Laf glances up at him suspiciously but continues his ministrations. 

Sparks fly across his eyelids and he shoves his fist in his mouth to muffle the noises escaping him, terrified of someone hearing, walking in out of concern, mouth opening to ask if they’re okay before freezing, turning, and yelling for an executioner because  _ sodomy! Colonel Hamilton has committed sodomy! _ Lafayette may be exempt, as a French ambassador, if they touched him they’d have another war on their hands. 

The Marquis does  _ something _ , twists and flexes his tongue, and Alex lifts his hips off the bed, eyes screwed shut and jaw locked over his hand, surely leaving dents. 

It takes another few minutes for Alex to be on edge, about to come, just a  _ little more -  _

And Lafayette pauses.

“Laf -”

“Sh,” Laf says. He blows lightly against the slick-wet of Alex’s ass, and Alex lets out a low whine that Laf quiets with a kiss. “Shh. You don’t want Washington to hear you and come investigating, do you?”

Alex quiets, but his muscles quiver and his dick leaks a little more. 

“You  _ do _ want him to come investigating,” Laf says quietly, wondering. “You wish for him to fuck you,  _ non _ ?”

“I - yes. I do,” Alex says, and looks up at the top of the tent, avoiding Laf’s eyes. “Sorry.”

“No need,  _ cher _ ,” Laf whispers. “I, personally, would love to be a witness to that. You like that he calls you son, non? As much as you deny, you shut down and submit to him when he does so. Would you call him daddy,  _ cher _ ?”

“Yes,” Alex blurts, and covers his mouth. 

“You would?” Laf chuckles, and returns to Alex’s hole. He hums against it, tongue-fucks Alex until he’s writhing, hand clapped over his mouth in an attempt to keep himself quiet, thinking about what if Washington was outside the tent just now? What if he let go, what if he let out a noise that made the General investigate? What if Washington entered the tent, saw the Marquis tongue-deep in Alex’s willing ass and ordered him aside, took his place, slicked up his dick and  _ fuck _ . 

“Imagine I’m him,” Lafayette whispers, and peppers Alex’s thighs with kisses before licking back inside him, presses in all the directions he knows Alex loves. 

“ _ Daddy,”  _ Alex moans. “Please, please, let me come.”

Lafayette hums against his ass and says, “If you can be good for me.”

“So good, daddy, I promise -”

Lafayette responds by shoving his tongue deeper, humming and rubbing Alex’s thighs, spreading his cheeks and chuckling as he squirms more. Lafayette reaches up, jacks Alex’s dick, laughing and pulling up, inserting three fingers instead, curling them, curling and pushing and flexing and really that’s all Alex can take. He bites his lip until it bleeds but it distracts from the feeling of a muffled down orgasm, come spurting onto his stomach. He tries not to make a sound, instead forcing his mouth closed and turning his face to a pillow to hide the whimpers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written by thegirlnightwing


	8. threesome; jeffhamliza

Alex twists against his restraints, but Eliza stole cuffs off Lafayette, and Lafayette has  _ good cuffs _ \- or so Alex thinks - there’s really no way he’ll be getting free any time soon. 

“That’s cruel,” he complains, watching Eliza slowly finger Thomas open. “This is cruel, unusual punishment.”

“Oh, shut up for once in your life, Hamilton,” Thomas grits out. He looks like he’s holding back - words and moans. Alex wants to ask - order - him to let go and just let himself be heard - because he’s imagined this for so long, thought of the noises Thomas might make as he’s filled… but he knows it’s not his place, not right now. Not with Eliza hovering over Thomas’ arching body, smile hidden by the hair fallen in front of her face. 

Like she senses what Alex wants, she lightly presses her lips to Thomas’ naval, and kisses her way down, stopping just short of his dick. She shifts up, and he lets out a muffled yelp at the change in angle. “You’re choking on the words you want to spill,” She murmurs against his shoulder. “Don’t hold back, let us hear you.”

“Oh,” Thomas whispers. 

“I want to hear you. Alex wants to hear you, too. He wouldn’t shut up about your voice, when he first met you.”

“Eliza,” Alex hisses. 

Thomas laughs. “You like my voice?”

“Course he does,” Eliza says. “So let us hear you, hm?”

He shudders as she adds another finger, hesitates, and then lets out a moan, low and resonating. “Oh, fuck.”

Alex groans, tugs again at the ropes. “Eliiiiza,” He whines. 

“If you keep complaining, I won’t let you fuck him,” She says shortly, and Alex’s mouth snaps shut. 

Thomas giggles - honest to god  _ giggles _ \- and when Eliza pulls her fingers out he lifts his hips and sways them, winking at Alex. 

“Oh my god,” Alex says. “Oh my  _ god _ .”

“Turn over,” Eliza orders Thomas, and he complies. 

She settles down on the bed, and draws up her skirt - a nightgown, thin and easy to maneuver - and reveals herself as being bare underneath. She curls a finger in Thomes’ direction, and he crawls towards her, reaches her and waits for her to wrap her fingers in his hair and push him down. 

Alex bites back a whine. He’s quite the picture, hands restrained behind his back, completely nude, cock standing up proud, throbbing and leaking. 

Eliza raises an eyebrow at him, and he shakes his frantically. “I wasn’t complaining! It’s just - to see him like this, to see you controlling him -”

She grins as Thomas flushes, watches his cock drip pre-cum. 

“I’m  _ sorry  _ it’s  _ arousing _ to see my political enemy taken down and eating out my  _ wife _ .”

Eliza sighs. “There’s a button on the side you press to unlock.”

“You’re  _ kidding _ .” A  _ click _ and Alex is free. In an instant he’s behind Jefferson, pressing his dick against his ass. A hand traces Jefferson’s ass, and Jefferson makes a  _ noise _ against Eliza’s clit that makes her gasp, the vibrations rocking her to the core. “You need anything more?” Alex asks, rubbing against him, groaning at the friction. Jefferson shakes his head slightly, trying not to bother Eliza with the movement. 

“Good,” Alex says, and lines himself up, pushes in. “ _ Fuck. _ ”

Jefferson moans, pants, barely retaining enough control to give Eliza attention. 

“ _ God _ , you’re tight,” Alex groans. “Shit, shit.”

Jefferson does something - he must’ve clenched down, because Alex is cursing, jerking his hips forward. “Holy fuck.”

Jefferson hums, pleased, and Eliza copies him, rolling her hips up and forward, further into his face. His tongue pushes inside her, and she sighs at the feeling. Jefferson’s forced forward, and Eliza looks up and sends Alex a bemused look as he thrusts, fucking into Jefferson hard, so much unlike how he makes love to her. Though she supposes that’s different. This is just an arrangement for sex. She and Alex, when they fuck, they love. 

_ No politics in the bedroom.  _ Their only rule. So she watches Alex bite back a comment about Thomas bending over literally, replacing it with, “You feel so good,” a gasp. “Fuck, this is all I’ll be able to think about next Cabinet meeting, the way you take my cock, the expression on Betsy’s face when you moan -”

Jefferson twitches, but his hands stay on Eliza’s hips, and he doesn’t protest this.

“You’re doing good,” Eliza says, and brushes stray coils of hair out of his eyes. “You’re doing so good for us.”

He doesn’t nod this time, instead humming in agreement against her folds, pushing and pulling his tongue, trying to make her feel good, trying to get that praise again. 

Alex chuckles, gives a particularly hard thrust, shoving Thomas’ tongue deeper into Eliza than he’d dared to go. “Oh,” she breathes, and bites her lip, closes her eyes. “Oh.”

Thomas smiles against her and flicks his tongue, and hums against her clit again and she digs her fingers into his scalp, closes her eyes and throws her head back and clenches down and - she hits her peak, climaxing and shuddering, hand still in a deathlock on Thomas’ hair. 

“Go wild,” Eliza tells Alex, and scoots back. Thomas looks good, eyes half lidded with pleasure, jaw dropped and her juices covering his mouth and chin. Every time Alex thrusts, Thomas’ eyelids flutter and he gives a little gasp. Alex locks eyes with her and she nods, knowing what he wants.

Alex presses a hand between Thomas’ shoulder blades until his face (unfortunately) is buried in a pillow. He grips Thomas’ hips next, stills, gives and experimental thrust before pounding into him, uncaring for Thomas’ comfort as he fucks into the tight heat. 

He’s coming soon after, spilling inside him. Thomas comes onto the sheets, but neither Hamilton can bring themselves to care. Eliza crawls over, nudges Thomas and grabs his face, kisses it. 

“Thanks,” Alex grunts reluctantly, settling down on Thomas’ other side. Thomas rolls his eyes but doesn’t talk, seemingly unable.

“Good boy,” Eliza says teasingly. Thomas snorts.

They fall asleep together, but when Eliza wakes up, Alex is snoring by her side and Thomas is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written by thegirlnightwing


	9. Getting a "gift" from someone; Marliza

Maria and Eliza had a strange relationship. They had met in one of the worst ways possible - by having someone introduce them to each other as the girl their boyfriend was cheating on them with. Maria had been ready to be angry, but Eliza was a kind soul, and realized that the blame was with Alex.

They would text each other occasionally; Eliza liked to meet up for coffee every two weeks or so, and Maria liked to meet up for drinks. One night they’d been dared to kiss each other, and they’d both been drunk enough to accept. 

One thing lead to another, and now they had a friends with benefits type situation, and they still met up for coffee and drinks. 

Maria wouldn’t say they were dating, but she wasn’t entirely sure she’d say yes if anyone else asked her out, and there was too much affection shared for no strings to be attached. She liked to think Eliza was the same, but she had no way of knowing, and she wasn’t going to ask. 

But Theo had thought a secret santa would be a good idea, and Maria drew Eliza’s name. 

Eliza wasn’t a materialistic person. She’d ooh and aww over a piece of jewelry or a nice pair of shoes just as much as the next person, but she valued experiences and people over things. It was something Maria had learned early on - one of the first times they had gotten together had been to drink wine and complain about Alex. 

Eliza also liked it when Maria got down on her knees all pretty, always said the boys who didn’t treat her right didn’t know what they were missing. Maria was of the thought that it was Eliza the boys were missing out on. She was so pretty and sweet and smiling during the day, but grab her attention the right way at night, and her smile would remain but her gaze would grow stern and her hands firm.

Maria had thought about buying Eliza something - she liked soft things, scarves and sweaters. She’d appreciate a handmade scarf, would probably wear it every day until the middle of July. She’d even found herself standing in craft stores, feeling the different types yarn. There was one she almost bought - a soft powder blue that Maria knew Eliza would love. Instead, she picked up a small pack of cardstock, some calligraphy markers, and a small gift box.

It took about an hour and five tries to get it to the point of acceptability, but eventually Maria had a nice rectangle of paper with the words, “1 night to do with me as you wish” written in the neatest hand she could manage.

Eliza could have as many nights as she wanted, but it was the spirit of the matter.

She drew a border around the edge of the card, and wrapped it up in tissue paper before setting it in the gift box and wrapping that in wrapping paper. 

Eliza’s cheeked had turned the most wonderful shade up pink when she opened the card on the day of the gift exchange. The others hadn’t been paying too much attention, but Maria caught the heat in her gaze when she shoved the paper back into the bag.

It seemed she had made the right decision after all.

Maria had gotten a pair of fluffy socks and a starbucks giftcard from Angelica, and considered it a successful day. 

The night held even more promise, because Maria got a text in the late evening from Eliza asking if she could renew the coupon that night. 

Maria knocked on the door to Eliza’s apartment, almost bouncing in her heels in excitement. Eliza opened the door with a smile on her face, and the door had barely shut before Maria found herself pressed against it and a hand reaching around her hip toward her ass.

She let her purse drop to the floor, and lifted her arms to wrap them around Eliza’s waist, “Hello.”

Eliza pressed a kiss to her cheek, “I get you however I want for the night, don’t I?”

Maria nodded, smiling.

Eliza stepped away, and pulled Maria with her. She sat down on the sofa, and Maria was tugged down to straddle her lap. 

“I’ve thought about how I wanted you,” Eliza said, “and how nice you look on your knees, and the lovely sounds you make when I fuck you just right.” Eliza’s hands were kneading her thighs through her jeans, and Maria leaned down to press kisses to Eliza’s neck.

She pulled away to say, “You can have me however you want. I could be good for you, you know, or bad if that’s what you’re craving. I know you like leaving marks.”

Eliza smiled, and moved a hand to pop the button of Maria’s jeans before returning to her thigh, “You could be very good for me, and you’re right, I do like marks. There’s something artistic in it, don’t you think. I was never much of an artist, but you’re a beautiful canvas.”

“Whatever you want.”

The anticipation was killing her. Eliza’s hands stayed where they were, and Maria leaned back down to pepper Eliza’s neck and collarbone with light kisses and bites. Eliza’s gasps were almost inaudible, but ever so lovely. Maria had never had the greatest self-control, so she couldn’t be faulted when she chased one of those gasps with a kiss. Eliza’s fingers curled into the meat of her thighs, “Maria.”

“Yes?”

“I want you to go to my bedroom, and when I get there, I want you naked and waiting.”

Maria nodded, and pushed herself off of Eliza’s lap and walked quickly to the bedroom. The bed was made, and Maria carefully folded her clothing and put it in a pile on the floor before laying out on top of the comforter. There was an ache in her core that was near impossible to ignore, but Eliza didn’t tell her she could touch, and so she refrained.

It felt like forever she was lying there, waiting for Eliza to come in.

She finally did, and Maria felt her breath be taken away. Eliza had changed from her jeans and sweater of before into a short, silk robe. Maria could tell she wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and she felt her fingers twitch with the need to feel the skin hidden by the fabric.

Eliza said not a word when she stepped forward until her knees brushed against the foot of the bed. Maria looked at her, fighting the urge to sit up to get closer. She put a hand on Maria’s ankle, and slid her hand up Maria’s leg as far as she could reach, slow and sure. 

Maria could feel how wet she was, and her hips were lifting into the air in useless motions, but her hands stayed flat against the comforter, and her eyes on Eliza. 

Eliza stepped up so she was kneeling on the mattress, “I was going to sit back and play with your hair while you ate me out with that talented mouth of yours, but you looks so amazing like this, and I find that I just want to touch.”

A finger brushed against Maria’s folds, and she pushed into the touch and let out a loud moan. Eliza hushed her, but circled her clit with slow motions. 

“Maria, I do believe that you are positively aching for me.”

Maria nodded, catching Eliza’s gaze and letting out another moan of longing at the fire she saw there. She watched as maria leaned down, and squeezed her eyes shut when she felt lips brush against her clit and fingers circle her entrance. She gasped out, “I’m supposed to be doing this for you.”

Eliza lifted her head up, her mouth shiny, “Oh, you will. But for now, I’m going to play.”

It didn’t take very long at all for Maria to reach her climax. Eliza’s free hand was holding her hips down, as Eliza fucked Maria with her tongue as Maria came. 

Maria was basking in the afterglow when she looked over to find Eliza with a hand between her legs, “I was supposed to do that for you.”

Eliza’s gasps were increasing in volume as she worked herself closer, “you can do it later, but I need to do this now.”

Maria watched entranced as Eliza’s eyes shut and her face relaxed as she came. When her eyes opened, Maria sat up and placed a kiss on Eliza’s lips, “ready for round two?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By Kookookarli


	10. 69; jefferburr

Thomas likes dick. He likes sucking it, he likes having it up his ass, hell he just likes dicks! He isn’t afraid of saying it, and he’s pretty sure that everyone knows anyway.

Well, maybe not  _ everyone _ . Aaron’s told him on multiple occasions, with vague hand motions to accompany his words that “You don’t seem the type to be a bottom.”

Well. He  _ supposes  _ he can see why people wouldn’t think that, with his loud, ‘dominating personality’ courtesy of one Alexander Hamilton, and his ‘excessive muscles, like, who even needs that many muscles’ another compliment from a certain admirer (Hamilton).

But he loves the feeling of dropping to his knees, the startled intake of breath that Aaron always gives, a hand making its way into his curls and tugging just enough for his mouth to open wide, saliva gathering as he lavishes attention onto his dick, hand cupping his balls gently, squeezing them just enough to get Aaron to relax against the wall.

He loves looking up with hooded eyes, watching as Aaron unravels with every bob of his head, the groans that are pushed out of him as Thomas hollows his cheeks, flattens his tongue against the bottom of his dick, memorizing every movement that pulls an appreciative hum from Aaron’s lips.

“Stop, Thomas, stop.” He pauses at Aaron’s gasped words, pulling off with a satisfying pop. His cheeks are flushed, and he knows he must make a pretty picture, lips swollen and cock straining at his pants.

“What is it?” He tilts his head. This isn’t normally how things go.

“I want us to try something new. I want-” Aaron hesitates, as if unsure how to continue. “I want to give  _ you _ something as well, instead of you just sucking me off.” 

Thomas’ eyes widen and his mouth stretches into a smile as he begins to understand what Aaron is suggesting.

“Then I suggest we take this to the bedroom.” He purrs, rising from the floor.

Getting there, is hasty, rushed, both of them eager to get their clothes off. Thomas pulls off his shirt and hears an appreciative hum from Aaron.

Soon enough, they’re both seated on the bed, suddenly unsure at how to continue. 

“Well, if you lie down, then I can get on top of you…” Aaron trails off, but Thomas jumps on the idea.

“Yes. Yes let’s try that.”

They manouver themselves into position, with occasional comments of, “Move your ass-no not that way, do you want me to suck you off or  _ not _ .” “I’m not the one who keeps almost  _ stabbing me in the face with his dick _ .” “I have flexible hips!”

But eventually they do finally get into position. Aaron seems to hesitate at the sight of Thomas’ dick, suddenly intimidated. There’s a moment of uncomfortable silence before Thomas just sighs and pulls Aaron’s hips down just enough for him to take his head into his mouth, well used to the heavy feeling of Aaron’s dick in his mouth, lying steady on his tongue. 

Aaron’s exhale of surprise flutters over Thomas’ dick and he lets out a thrumming moan around the dick in his mouth, another as Aaron finally  _ finally _ noses against his cock, licking up it’s length and placing open-mouthed kisses up it almost reverentially.

The warm wet heat of his mouth makes Thomas’ hips jerk, and Aaron pulls off, slapping at his hip reprimandingly. 

“Naughty.” He admonishes softly.Thomas huffs, and takes Aaron’s cock deeper still, pushes down his gag reflex, feels his throat flutter around his dick and grins at the strangled sound that pushes itself out of Aaron’s throat.

His toes curl at the hand that languidly starts pulling at his cock as Aaron sucks at the head of it, leaving long stripes as he alternates between swallowing him down and just licking, torturously slow. 

Suddenly, Aaron’s breaths are puffing cold over Thomas’ dick, uneven and his cock twitching inside Thomas’ mouth.

Knowing what was about to happen, Thomas raises his hand, twists his wrist down the length of Aaron’s cock in time with one last hard suck and-

Aaron groans, toes curling, and muscles tense as he shoots his load into Thomas’ mouth. As soon as he’s done, he flops over, loose limbed and grinning. Thomas wipes at his mouth as it dribbles onto his chin, the salty aftertaste making his nose wrinkle.

“M’sorry you didn’t get off.” Aaron mutters into the pillow that he’s claimed as his own.

“It’s okay darlin’, I know you aren’t that great at blowjobs.” Thomas purrs, eyes flashing mischeiviously. 

Aaron’s head shoots up, indignant. “I’m great at them, I was just… distracted, that’s all!”

“Mmhmm.” Thomas hums, raising a challenging eyebrow. “Well wanna prove it to me?”

“Sure thing,  _ asshol e . _ ” He mutters, before settling between his legs, and ducking his head down, mouth falling open easily to take his cock into his mouth, determination making his eyebrows furrow. 

“Don’t look so angry about it doll,” Thomas drawls, his voice  _ completely _ steady. 

His breath does hitch however when Aaron pops off his dick and nuzzles at the base of his crotch, taking his balls into his warm, wet mouth and looking up with challenging eyes, one hand still working over his crotch.

“Fuuuuuck-” It comes out as one long exhale, and he can feel his balls tightening at Aaron’s thorough attention to detail. He gets pushed over the edge when Aaron, winks at him cheekily and scrapes his teeth lightly over the skin of his dick.

He shudders as he comes, head thrown back and hands scrabbling for purchase on the sheets. His curls stick uncomfortably to his skin as he blinks open his eyes again, and sees Aaron spitting out his release, a disgusted expression on his face.

Meeting his eyes, he sticks out his tongue. “How do you swallow this stuff its so  _ gross. _ ” 

Thomas sighs, leaning his head onto his hand. “Of course you wouldn’t swallow.”

“Of course you  _ would _ .” Aaron shoots back, already pulling his boxers on.

“Where are you going?” Thomas tilts his head, pouting. 

“To the kitchen, asshole. I can still taste it.” 

“Bring me a glass-?”

“No!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER WRITTEN BY DRACONEQUSS EVERYONES WRITTEN SMTH SO FAR BUT JUST WAIT I HAVE LIKE 6 DAYS IN A ROW SOON HAHAHH AH AH HAH AH HA
> 
> 69 is okay but blowjobs are better
> 
> tumblr is right over [here](http://draconequss.tumblr.com/)


	11. blowjob; lams

The tents in the field didn’t block noise. And it’s funny - John can hold in his groans, can pull back and close his mouth and climax quietly - but Alex, like he is with everything, is  _ loud _ . 

It happened once, where the Marquis - a dear friend of theirs, really, but not someone they’d trust to keep them safe from the sharp eyes of the law - caught a note of Alex’s moans, and had entered their tent hastily, thinking Alex had been hurt. Alex, of course, was the opposite of hurt. 

John had heard him coming early, and pulled Alex - sitting in his desk chair - to the desk, where the back of the opening is covered with a shelf. He puts his finger to his lips in a “shh”ing motion and winking, before situating himself inside the space there and enveloping Alex’s dick with his mouth once more. Alex bites back a moan just as the tent flap opens. 

“Alexander?” 

“Lafayette,” Alex responds. “How may I ah - um - assist you?”

John laughs quietly at “assist” and hollows his cheeks, sucking hard. He can feel Alex holding back the moan that threatens to escape him. John swirls his tongue, pushing down on Alex’s dick and closing his eyes, determined to make him break. Alex’s hand snakes down into his hair and grips it, sending fire down John’s scalp.

“I heard a noise and was merely checking to see if you were alright.”

“Thank you, Laf, but as you can see I am perfectly safe and fine.” 

John hums, and the vibrations make Alex visibly shudder. John can’t see how Laf reacts, but Alex’s hand tightens further so he laughs, muffled by the dick in his mouth, and counts that as a win.

“Yes, I apologize for the disturbance.” A brief pause before he says, “And where is Laurens?”

John says, “here,” quietly so Laf doesn’t hear him. Alex twists his hand and yanks it forward, pulling John to the base of his dick. John chokes, tip hitting his throat. His hands grip Alex’s thighs and he doesn’t tap out. He regulates breathing through his nose and focusses his attention on the head of Alex’s cock. 

“John is - ah! - ehem, apologies. John is occupied with - uh, with the General.”

“Funny, I was with General Washington just now, and - are you sure you’re alright, Alexander?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. I meant, uh, General -” Alex’s thighs shake as he twitches nervously. “I meant Lee, of course. My mistake.”

“Funny of you to refer to him by his formal title. You look flushed, Alex, perhaps you should see the medic?”

“Hah, no, I’m fine, honest, Laf. Just need a little sleep, I guess.”

“Hm.” A slightly longer pause before Lafayette heaves a sigh. “Goodnight, Alex.”

“Goodnight, Laf.”

Alex pushes back, and subsequently leaves John’s mouth. John tries to chase his dick, leaning forward, but stops when he almost falls forward. “Really, John?” 

“Really.” John smirks, and eyes Alex’s dick, licking his lips. “Come back here.”

Alex sighs, and pulls him up, before pushing him to the bed. “You and voyeurism.”

“Exhibitionism,” John corrects. He winks. “I can’t be a voyeur, I’d be too jealous.”

“Uh huh,” Alex says. John takes his dick back into his mouth and bobs, staring up at Alex through his eyelashes. “Goddamn, you’re pretty,” Alex says, and groans, tangling his fingers in John’s hair. 

John laughs but it’s gurgled, since his mouth is full. He hums, put on his most innocent expression and stares directly into Alex’s eyes.

Alex moans “fuck” and he’s coming, shooting off down John’s throat. 

John pulls off and Alex pulls down his pants, kneeling down to reciprocate. 

John moans, and Alex goes down all the way immediately, deep throating him. “No gag reflex?” John teases. “How many dicks have you sucked, Hamilton?”

Alex pulls off and smirks at him. “Enough,” he says, and goes back down. John tilts his head back, moans. 

“Jesus,” he says. “Confident in that, aren’t you.” 

“Mhm.” 

John groans at the vibrations, and pulls Alex’s hair out of its ponytail. “Can I?” He asks, and when Alex bobs his head in a nod he grips a handful of it and thrusts his hips. Alex makes a little choking noise, but when John pauses he gives a hard suck, indicating his willingness to continue.

So John fucks up into his mouth, brutally. Pushing Alex up and down and moaning at the sensations. 

He comes quickly, Alex swallowing every drop. 

Alex pulls off and John pulls him up into a kiss. “Thank you,” Alex breathes into his mouth.

“Thank  _ you,”  _ John says. They collapse on Alex’s bed, and John pulls the blankets over both of them. 

“What if someone comes to get us?” Alex murmurs.

John shrugs. “We were huddling for warmth,” he says.

Alex accepts it.

They’re asleep moments later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By thegirlnightwing


	12. day 12 - christmas themed toys; thomas/lafayette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gilbert du motier gets too enthusiastic about christmas.

Gil breezes into Thomas’s office, sweeping by his assistant with a cheery, “bonsoir!” and a broad wink. Thomas looks up from his computer.

“I’m staying late tonight,” he says, checking the clock on his desk. “I forgot to text you. We have so much paperwork to finish and I don’t want to make my employees stay late if I’m not staying too.”

“That’s fine. Give me your key,” Gil says.

Thomas raises his eyebrows. “S’il te plait,” he prompts, digging in his pocket.

“Oui, s’il te plait. Donne le moi.”

Thomas slips his apartment keys off of his key ring and throws them to Gil, who catches them and fastens them carefully onto his lanyard. “What do you have planned?”

“Nothing. Prends ça.” Gil pulls an envelope out of his pocket and tosses it onto Thomas’s desk.

“Merci,” Thomas says absently. The envelope is cheap, the texture is abysmal, and the red comes away on Thomas’s fingers when he picks it up.

“Pas de problème. You’ll give me an hour at least?”

“Count on two. I’ll just eat here, so feed yourself. Help yourself to anything in the fridge.”

“Oui. Two hours, then. Hurry home, mon canard.”

Gil kisses the air and Thomas echoes, already looking back to his computer as Gil leaves. He can overhear him pausing to chat to the assistant who leans forward to reply.

“Ça va?” Gil, a flirty lilt in his voice.

“Ça va.” 

“Excellent. Bonsoir.”

“Bonsoir!”

Thomas glances up as Gil whisks out the door, his candy cane striped scarf floating behind him. It nearly catches as the door swings shut.

He picks up the envelope again and tears the flap up. Inside is a cheap card, a dollar store Christmas party invitation, the kind that comes in packs of a dozen. The front, were it not defaced, would have been a bland drawing of holly and the words “Please join us,” but Gil has clearly decided to unleash his inner artist, because coming out of the foliage above a pair of holly berries is a large, veiny monstrosity of a cock. He’s also crossed out “join us” and replaced it with “défonce-moi.”

Thomas has to laugh.

He turns the card over and snickers. There are spaces to write time and place, and Gil has filled those in, respectively, with “immediately” and “your apartment, specifically your bedroom, specifically your bed.” At the bottom, underneath the nearly unreadable script reading  _ RSVP,  _ Gil has added, “Si tu refuses, tu le regretteras à jamais.”

_ Naturally I would regret it forever, _ Thomas thinks, as he circles  _ attending  _ on the little response card enclosed and snapchats a picture of it to Gil.  _ He’d never let me forget it. _

And then he gets back to work, but it’s hard to concentrate when he thinks about Gil’s candy cane scarf.

 

* * *

 

The drawback to giving Gil his key is that he can’t get into his apartment. Thomas texts  _ let me in _ from downstairs, and receives a  _ LOOK UP  _ in response. He glances up and catches sight of Gil on the balcony.

“No,” he says, and then he repeats it louder, hoping Gil will hear him from three storeys up, “no -”

But the keys are in the air already. They land on the sidewalk a few feet away, and Thomas scoops them up, muttering, “what is this, Rent? Thanks, Mark.”

So of course he’s whistling as he takes the stairs two at a time, contemplating what to make for lunch tomorrow and what shitty TV show to watch tonight, and when he opens the door the whistle dies on his lips as the scent of fresh gingerbread hits him in the face.

“What is this?” he asks, tossing his jacket onto its hook by the door and turning into the kitchen. “Gil?”

Gil is nowhere to be seen, but there are two trays of gingerbread dicks with icing veins waiting on the kitchen counter.

“I don’t even own cookie sheets!” Thomas protests, but he can’t resist picking one of the dicks up and nibbling the corner. The gingerbread is  _ amazing, _ so good he moans a little and crams the whole thing into his mouth.

He kicks off his shoes and loosens his tie as he makes his way to the bedroom. “Gil, have you just been baking cookies for two hours?” he asks through his mouthful of cookie. The bedroom door is open; he pauses just inside it, taking in the sight of Gil in red and green boxer briefs, reclining on a bed with a poinsettia tucked into his hair.

“What,” Thomas says.

“I originally had the poinsettia in my mouth, but they’re poisonous,” Gil tells him, by way of explanation.

That’s worrisome. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. You have to eat hundreds of petals for it to do anything bad. It just tastes disgusting. Viens ici, Thomas.”

Gil brandishes a length of cheap plastic garland, shiny red, and Thomas rolls his eyes. “What are you going to -”

“Tais-toi. I told you to come  _ here, _ Thomas.”

There’s that familiar drop, the flush of heat that rises in his neck and face, and Thomas finds his feet carrying him forward before he even has space to think.

“J’ai envie de toi - everything off, mon coeur, that’s right -” 

Thomas strips slowly, aware of Gil’s eyes on him. Gil shifts a little and Thomas could  _ swear _ he hears a jingle, but it doesn’t matter - all he cares about is the way Gil stares at him. He wonders idly if this is how gingerbread feels. He wants to be devoured.

Bare, he moves closer, bumps his knees against the bed, and Gil pats the bedspread and coos, “bon, bon, viens ici - I have surprises for you -”

He lays on his back and Gil loops the garland around his wrists. Thomas is trussed snugly, resting his hands against his chest, tucked under his chin, as Gil pulls a condom out of a package and rolls it down onto Thomas’s cock, which is just hard enough to make gloving up possible.

“Why the condom?” he manages.

“Tais-toi.” Gil finishes rolling it on and reveals the fake mistletoe that attaches to the base.

“You didn’t,” Thomas says, delighted.

“I did. And that isn’t all.”

The next thing Gil produces is a little bottle of lube with a suspicious brown shape on the label.

“Is that -”

“Gingerbread flavour!” Gil grins.

“But why?”

“Are you questioning my Christmas spirit?”

“Of course not,” Thomas laughs, and Gil presses a tender kiss to his belly.

“Besides,” Gil says, popping the top and dribbling a little onto the tip of Thomas’s cock, “I hate the way condoms taste.”

“Then why use one at all?”

Gil lives him a withering glare and flicks the mistletoe at the base. The lube has dripped in thick rivulets down one side of the condom; Gil licks up along the side, his tongue broad and flat. He gives Thomas a thorough licking before sucking the tip of his cock through his lips and moaning obscenely.

“You taste like dessert,” he mumbles.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Thomas tells him. That earns him a slap on the thigh, and he laughs with the sting as Gil bobs his head.

The condom dulls the sensation a little but Gil more than makes up for it with his enthusiasm. Apparently cookie-flavoured cocks are a fantastic idea, because Gil can’t seem to get enough. He sucks ferociously, humming and moaning and rolling his hips, and there’s that  _ jingling _ again, obtrusive enough that Thomas can’t help but be distracted.

Gil pulls his head off of Thomas’s cock with a lewd popping noise, breathing heavily. He pops the lube open again and pours a little more on as he asks, “ça va?”

“Jesus,” Thomas breathes, “put your mouth back on me -”

“Happy birthday to him, yes,” Gil grins. Thomas puts his bound hands on the back of Gil’s head and gently nudges him back to work.

“Pass me the usual lube,” Gil says, his breath hot on Thomas’s cock. Thomas raises his hands to show off his bound wrists, and Gil adds, “point taken. Un moment s’il te plait.”

It just takes a moment of digging in the nightstand drawer for the regular lube, the one without any sugars or flavours, and then Gil is slipping a slicked finger into Thomas’s ass and sucking his cock back into his mouth, and when that finger angles up and rubs against his prostate Thomas arches his back and groans from deep in his chest. A second finger probes gently inside, and each fingertip rubs either side of his prostate in small circles. He can feel his cock weeping inside the condom; it’s slick in there, just slick enough that Thomas misses the wetness of Gil’s mouth.

Gil pulls off again and whispers, “more surprises, mon canard.”

“Don’t stop -”

But Gil is already pulling his fingers out and rolling the condom off, and Thomas has just enough time to be grumpy about the emptiness before a glass candy cane comes into view.

“No,” Thomas gasps with delight.

“Yes,” Gil grins, waving it from side to side. “The stripes should feel interesting, n’est-ce pas?”

“Put it in me -”

Gil slicks that up too and presses the end against Thomas’s ass, and then it’s sliding in and fuck, he was  _ right, _ the stripes are raised from the body of the candy cane and they tug as they push in and it’s cold and  _ perfect  _ and before he knows it, Thomas is writhing and sobbing, “baise-moi, baise-moi, baise-moi - !”

The raised stripes pull as Gil fucks him in long, slow strokes, and Thomas demands, “plus fort, plus vite,” and Gil laughs at him.

“S’il te plait,” he prompts, echoing Thomas’s tone from just a few hours before at the office.

Thomas breaks and begs, “s’il te plait, plus fort, plus vite, Gil, s’il te plait, baise-moi -”

“You know, I like you like this.” Gil pulls the toy all the way out and Thomas makes a cracked noise, rolling his hips. Absently Gil adds, “Tais-toi. You are so  _ needy, _ aren’t you, Thomas, my love? I will fill you up, I promise.”

“Baise-moi,” Thomas repeats, but softer.

Gil wriggles out of his boxer briefs and finally, finally, Thomas understands the jingling. At the base of his cock, which is slender and hard and magnificent, is a red silicone cock ring, from which dangles three bells.

And Thomas  _ needs  _ to be fucked, but he can’t resist laughing.

Gil taps one of the bells and and says, “tell me you love Christmas.”

“I love Christmas,” Thomas agrees instantly.

“Good,” Gil says, as he presses the tip of his cock against Thomas’s asshole, “because it’s coming early this year.”

Thomas groans at the horrible joke, and then groans as Gil slides into him. There’s no waiting, he’s warmed up enough; Gil just fucks him hard and fast, and that jingling, that fucking jingling, is uproarious. The metal slaps cold against Thomas’s ass.

“Please touch me,” Thomas begs, and Gil wraps a hand around his cock and jerks. He focuses on the head where it peeks out from under the foreskin; it’s so sensitive it almost hurts, and before he knows it Thomas is coming hard, semen spurting hard and spattering his chest and throat as he throws his head back.

His ass contracts with each shot and that seems to push Gil over the edge, and with a gasped, “Thomas, Thomas,” he’s coming too. Thomas can feel it in him, slick and hot.

Gil collapses on him and nuzzles against the side of his neck.

“Thank you,” Thomas says. And then: “Can you untie me?”

“Unwrapping my presents early?” Gil loosens the garland, tugs it away, and Thomas wraps his newly liberated arms around him.

“This was a lot of work for - how many times can we feasibly use this stuff? Christmas is in a couple weeks, so, like, fourteen times”

“In that case I should show you the last present. You know, so we have time to use it.”

Gil opens the nightstand drawer again and pulls out a snowman-shaped vibrator.

Thomas laughs. “You know, we’re both going to hell.”

“Happy birthday, Jesus,” Gil says solemnly. “I’m sorry for everything I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey did you know these are all real toys? enjoy knowing that. yell at me on [tumblr](http://alexangery.tumblr.com).


	13. Public Sex; Hamburr

Finals were a difficult time for most people, but for Alex it was really just another time of the year. People around him would complain about the hours they spent studying late into the night, or how they had to lock themselves up in the library to finish a paper, but those were both things that Alex did on a near daily basis. 

Their version of hell was his version of life.

Alex had accepted that a while ago, and all around him people would be asking him how the hell he did it, and he would just shrug. Burr understood, in a weird way. They weren’t the same, different in their motivations and behavior, but they were similar enough in their work ethic. 

Study rooms were always hard to get the week before and of finals, and there were a few that always went quicker than the rest. Alex’s favorite was among those It was one of the few in the student center - on the second floor with glass walls, situated so you could look ever the lobby and sitting areas. He always made sure to book it well in advance, so that he’d have the privilege of looking out over everyone and feeling smug about getting there first.

Burr wasn’t normally one to text - he was the type to prefer communicating only when necessary, and even then he tended to avoid it. Burr was a strange man, albeit an attractive one. He seemed to view conversations as a battle, with everyone always looking for weaknesses to exploit. It was something Alexander recognized because it was something he did himself, the difference is that while Alex was more offensive, Burr always on the defense. 

So Alex had been surprised when he got a text from Burr, asking if they could study together since all the rooms were booked. Alexander knew that Burr didn’t mean study together as in together, but rather in the same space. There was plenty of space in the room Alex had claimed as his own, so technically there was no reason to not grant Burr’s request. Burr was good at being quiet, and Alex was certain that if he put in headphones he wouldn’t even notice the other man was there.

No, the problem wasn’t with Burr, it was with Alex. Sitting alone in a room, this room, with the man might just be the final test for the little self-control Alex had. 

And that is why Alex shot a quick message of to Burr telling him where he was.

Burr arrived about twenty minutes after Alex sent the texts, and the room was small enough that it only took about ten minutes for the smell of the cologne Burr was wearing to fill the room. It was a subtle scent, but one that Alex had become attuned to. He was a pushy person, and tended to get into people’s personal space a lot. Usually, Alex did it simply because he didn’t see the point of not, but with Aaron his actions held a double purpose - his smell was intoxicating. Whatever cologne it was that he wore needed to be made into a candle immediately.

Everything about Burr was attractive, and being in this room of all places wasn’t helping. Alex had dreamed too many times of this room, the glass walls meant that anyone who cared enough to look could see exactly what they were doing. It spelt out the worst type of temptation, and the object of his desires was sitting less than four feet away from him, staring at his computer completely oblivious to the thoughts running through Alex’s mind.

Burr was typing away, having only said a quick hello before sitting down. 

The words showing up on Alex’s screen were not what he was meant to be working on - the final edits on his final paper for anthropology - but instead a written out version of the fantasies running through his head. Alex let out a grunt, and held down the backspace key. Selecting and deleting would have been easier, but nowhere near as satisfying. 

Aaron didn’t listen to music when he worked, and he noticed Alex’s small fit, “Hamilton, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Burr.”

Burr shook his head, “You know I’m not normally the type to pry, but something’s bothering you. This isn’t just you being angry about writing something - I’ve seen that, this is different.”

Alex huffed, “Why does it matter, just focus on whatever you’re doing.”

Aaron shut his computer, and leaned forward across the table slightly, “Because whatever is wrong with you is noticeable, you’re not very good at quietly sulking, you know. I won’t be able to work with you acting like that, and there aren’t other study rooms. I looked.”

“I literally didn’t do anything - I just had to delete a paragraph or two.’

“Do you want me to look over them?” Burr asked.

Alex’s immediate thought was yes, he did, and he wanted Burr to act out what he read, but instead he said, “No, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Alex nodded, “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Alright.” 

Burr opened his computer again and went back to whatever he was working on. Alex looked at his essay, and tried to focus on the words in front of him. He couldn’t think about anthropology when Aaron Burr was sitting across from him with a glass wall behind him.

Aaron was tall, and he had lean muscles hidden under the sweaters he constantly wore. He’d fit against Alex’s back just right, able to fist a hand in his hair, grind a hard cock against his ass, and whisper in his ear while pressing him against the windows for all below to see. 

Alex shifted in his seat. The scent of Aaron’s cologne would be so much stronger if there wasn’t any distance between them. Aaron wasn’t an overly assertive man, but Alex had seen some hint of steel crop up when he was particularly aggravated. It took a while to find it, but Alex was sure that the man’s patience and control would translate in the best way possible to the bedroom.

He’d have to wait for permission to come, and wouldn’t be able to run his fingers and lips along Aaron’s smooth skin. Alex would be at Aaron’s mercy, and in here it would be for everyone to see.

Alex pressed the heel of his hand to his hardening cock and let out a gasp at the sensation. Despite how much the logical part of Alex’s brain didn’t want it to happen, Aaron looked up at the sound. Alex could feel warmth in his cheeks, and was sure that his face was flushed, and his pupils were probably blown wide - that combined with the sound and one of his hands being below the table made it had to misunderstand what was happening. 

Burr raised a groomed brow, “Hamilton, are you masturbating in a study room? I’m right here you know, and anyone who cared to look over can see you.”

“My dick is in my pants, I’ll have you know.”

“Keep it that way.” Burr’s voice took on a more commanding tone when he said that before returning his focus to his laptop screen. It was exactly the type of voice that had found its way into Alex’s fantasies time and time again, and it was the last thing he needed to hear if he wanted to calm himself down.

“Burr, I’m going to need to ask you to leave.”

Aaron wore an expression of complete disbelief, “are you telling me that I need to leave you alone to masturbate? What the hell is wrong with you? I can literally see the reflection of your screen behind you, you’re looking at an essay. Do you actually get turned on by your own writing?” 

Alex chuckled, “Well, when you put it like that, it certainly sounds worst than in my head.”

“I’m not leaving. Everywhere else is full, and I’m not standing around like an idiot while you take care of that in a glass room. Calm yourself.”

Alex pushed his chair away from the table, and Aaron breathed a sigh of relief and returned to his work. Slowly, Alex unbuttoned his jeans, and worked the zipper down. Aaron looked up at the sound, “you’re not.”

“I am.”

“No.”

“Yes. Try and stop me if you want,” Alex said the last part with a grin, expecting Aaron to storm out of the room or aggressively ignore what he was doing. 

He did not expect Aaron to stare at him with a calculating glint in his eye before disappearing under the table. In the next moment, a pair of hands were spreading his thighs and Alex looked down to see Aaron looking up at him, “what the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Aaron’s hands slowly made their way up Alex’s thighs, and Alex found his breath leaving him. 

“What the hell, Burr?”

Aaron’s hand took his hard cock out of his boxers and pressed a kiss to the tip, “I recognize that look, Alex. I’ve caught you looking at me a couple of times, and if you didn’t want this you would have stopped me by now, or wouldn’t have started it in the first place.”

Alex bit his bottom lip to hold back to moan as Aaron took the head into his mouth, and wrapped his hand around the base. He gasped out, “You know, I had always imagined this a little differently.”

“Oh, so you’ve imagined this? Tell me.”

Alex stifled another moan as Burr started to lay kisses up and down the sides of his cock. “Well, for one, I'm usually the one on my knees, ah, and in general, I, uh, a usually being pressed against, ah, a flat surface of, ah, some sort.” 

Burr’s one hand was slowly moving up and down his cock, while the other was holding his hips down. He lifted his head up and said, “there's still time, Alexander.”

The voice that reached Alex’s ears was deeper than normal, with a rough growl to it that had him wanting to hear it again and again, “ah, whatever you, ah, say.”

It was a challenge keeping quiet. From where Burr was under the table, you could only see him if you were looking directly under it from the next room over. From every other angle, it would just appear that Alex had been abandoned in the study room. That is, if he could keep a handle on the noises and facial expressions he made. 

He was failing, but seeing everyone go about their lives around him was bringing him closer and closer to the edge. “Aaron, I'm about to, ah.”

Aaron popped off, lips swollen and wet with spit, “You’ve been so good for me though, being quiet, by your standards at least. Why, you've almost bitten through your lip. You're loud in bed, aren’t you?”

Alex nodded quickly, “please let me cum.”

Aaron’s hand was still moving up and down, and Alex’s hips were raising to meet the motions, “would you be able to stop yourself if I told you not to?”

His knuckles were white as he gripped the handles of his chair, “I could try.”

Aaron chuckled, “maybe another time,” and then he took the head of Alex’s cock back into his mouth and sucked hard, flicking his tongue over the slit. 

He closed his eyes as he came with a shout, unable to hold back the sound. When he opened them he saw several pairs of wide eyes aimed his way, and he looked down to find Aaron panting with white dripping out of the corners of his mouth. 

Alex took in a breath, “I’d love to return the favor, but I only have the study room for another half hour and I'm afraid that's not enough time for what I have planned.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By ashilrak


	14. Food Play; Jeffmads

It wasn’t exactly something they had talked about before, but there was something too tempting about the image of drizzling melted chocolate along the lines of Thomas’ abdomen to pass up. 

Chocolate had many uses, and James was sure they’d manage to get rid of it somehow if Thomas was opposed. 

James had a feeling Thomas wouldn’t be opposed. 

Thomas would walk in from work, complaints about Hamilton bursting from the tip of his tongue, and then he’d stop in his tracks upon seeing James sitting in the arm chair, reading a book with his legs wide. Thomas would take in a deep breath, and then remove his coat and hang it up. He’d run his hands through his hair, and then he’d walk forward and kneel in the space between James’ feet, and wait.

It wasn’t that Thomas was predictable, it was that he was well-trained. 

James knew that Thomas was smart, and so it hadn’t taken any time at all for the routine to set in once they decided it was something they wanted to do. It wasn’t what James had expected from Thomas, but the best things in life were always a surprise. 

He had gone into the relationship expecting a more vanilla sexual life, and James was perfectly fine with that. Thomas could insist on missionary for the rest of their life, and James would be more than happy to comply. But Thomas did not. Thomas had asked James to sit on the bed, fully clothed, and watch as he slowly stripped each piece of clothing away from his body. 

Thomas was beautiful, and as shy as he was, he was confident in his looks. He had every reason to be, waking up at the crack of dawn every day to head to the gym had its benefits, and James had no problem reaping them.

After Thomas was bare to him, Thomas walked over and straddled his lap, leaning into the touched James ran down his chest. 

That moments had been a revelation, and since then, James had taken to stepping up to give Thomas the firm hand he sometimes needed, and the soft, supportive touch he other times longed for. 

In the time between then and now, they had learned to read what the other wanted at any given time. Communication was key, and James had made it a priority for Thomas to know that his opinion wasn’t just expected, but wanted.

When Thomas walked in and did what James knew he would, James set aside the book and looked down at the man kneeling before him, “Thomas, I have a question for you.”

Thomas’ smile was like sunshine, no matter the situation, “What is it?”

James leaned forward and reached his hand forward to scratch Thomas’ scalp, “Well, I bought something today, and I’d very much like to use it.”

Thomas let out a pleased hum, and nodded.

“I got some chocolate, and I would love it if you gave me the privilege of licking it off your skin this evening.”

It was funny how responsive Thomas was at times. At James’ words, he leaned further into James’ hand, and when he opened his eyes, his pupils were blown wide, “whatever you want.”

James nodded, smiling, “Great. Now, how about you go into the bedroom and get ready for me. Don’t stretch yourself, I’d like that pleasure, if you don’t mind. But I would like to see lying naked for me on the bed.” 

Thomas nodded, and when he went to stand up, James grabbed his arm and pulled him down for a chaste kiss on the lips. 

James knew he’d have to work quickly. Once the chocolate melted, it wouldn’t take very long for it to set. While the water was heating, he took off his sweater so that he was standing in the kitchen in jeans and a white t-shirt. It was a bit chilly, but James was more than willing to deal with that for a couple of minutes if it meant less time until he could have Thomas underneath him.

The chocolate didn’t take very long to melt, and he turned off the stove and brought the bowl and spoon with him into the bedroom.

No matter how many times he saw Thomas lying out for him, the sight never failed to take his breath away. It really was unfair to everyone how in-shape Thomas was, but James got to keep the marble statue come to life all to himself, so he couldn’t really be all that upset about it.

Thomas looked up when he entered the room, lids lowered and grin seductive, “Hello Jemmy.”

“Hello Thomas.”

That was all the warning James gave Thomas before he drizzled a line of chocolate down the center of his stomach, tongue trailing not far behind. Thomas arched into the touch, and James felt a smile spread across his face, “You’re so responsive for me, aren’t you?”

Thomas nodded, “I try.”

James wasn’t blind to Thomas’ stiffening cock, but he ignored it as he dripped chocolate across Thomas’ chest, paying special attention to the man’s hardening nipples. It was amusing the sort of reactions his touch could get out of Thomas. 

The whimpers filling the air as James bit the sensitive skin was making him want to touch more and bite harder, but also hold back and see if he could get Thomas to beg. James knew he could, but they didn’t have time for that if they wanted to use up all the chocolate.

James set the spoon aside and stuck two fingers into the bowl and then put them in Thomas’ open mouth, “You’re delicious, you know. I could do this for hours. The chocolate is going to harden soon. What do you want tonight, Thomas? If I could give you anything, what would you ask for?”

He took his now clean fingers out of Thomas’ mouth, having been sucked clean. Thomas took a second before saying, “I want your fingers in me, and then I want to suck your dick. I’ll be extra good for you if you let me, I promise.”

James nodded, and dipped his finger into the chocolate once more. He dragged his finger down Thomas’ chest and abs, hit mouth trailing behind. He stopped right before he got to the base of Thomas’ now hard cock and said, “Since you’re asking so nicely.”

He set the bowl of chocolate aside, and wrapped his hand around Thomas’ cock, pressing kisses along the vein on the underside. Thomas moaned at the attention, and James pressed a kiss to the tip and tongued at the slit, flicking away the precum gathered there. Then he let go and moved his hands to Thomas’ hips. Thomas’ hands were fisting in the sheets, “Please, why’d you stop? I, ah, please.”

James chuckled, “You said you wanted my fingers, turn over.”

Thomas did as directed, as James’ finger traced a line down from the small of his back to his hole, tracing around. 

“Darling, I need lube.”

Thomas let out a groan, muffled into the pillow, and turned his head and said, “I don’t want to move.”

James laughed, “you’re closer.”

Thomas pushed his hips into the mattress, “hmph.” He reached over for the drawer, and blindly grabbed a tube and through it in his direction, “here.”

“Thanks.”

Thomas pushed his hips back and wiggled his ass, “You’re welcome, now, ah, get on with it.”

James lightly slapped the smooth skin in reprimand, “Pushy, aren’t you.”

“Whatever works.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By ashilrak


	15. rough/violent/brutal sex; washington + jamilton

Jefferson’s face is contorted with rage. He leans forward across Washington, snarling viciously, “and _another_ thing, Hamilton, you incompetent garbage bucket -”

“Garbage buckets at least have a purpose. If I’m a garbage bucket, you’re a rusty kinked-up twist tie. No purpose -”

“Fuck you, _fuck_ your weird insults, you have _no_ idea what you’re talking about, why does anyone let you speak -”

“Gentlemen,” Washington says calmly.

“Do you even listen to the bullshit that comes out of your own mouth, Jefferson? Do you ever think, even for a single second? Or does your brain switch off when your mouth opens -”

“Shut the fuck your mouth, you useless animal -”

“Gentlemen,” Washington repeats.

“I’m not the animal that’s mixing two foods that should ever be within a _mile_ of each other outside of their respective packages -”

“Ketchup on easy mac,” Jefferson says, hovering completely over Washington’s lap and snarling into Hamilton’s face, “is the food of the gods, you tasteless blasphemer, and if you _ever_ talk shit about it again I will grab you by the nostril, drag you down the stairs, and throw you into a storm drain.”

Hamilton takes a deep breath through his nose, glances over at the coffee table, and then whips his hand out and knocks Jefferson’s bowl of easy mac to the floor. Ketchup spatters the hardwood and Jefferson’s eyes widen in horror.

“Oops,” says Hamilton.

Jefferson lunges and Washington grabs him by the shirt collar, yanking him back.

“Gentlemen,” he repeats yet again, long-suffering and endlessly patient. “Clearly there’s only one way to settle this.”

“Hamilton cleans the bathroom from now until forever,” Jefferson suggests.

“Jefferson sucks a hundred dicks and chokes,” Hamilton counters.

“Trial by fuck,” Washington corrects solemnly.

Hamilton grins and Jefferson snarls at him. “You’re fucking dead,” he says between bared teeth, a predatory glint in his eye.

“You always lose trial by fuck,” Hamilton says, hurriedly ripping off his hoodie and t-shirt. His belt slows him up a little; both his wrists are braced and it’s an awkward angle. “Sometimes I think you lose on purpose -”

Just like that, Jefferson is up and stripping. “You can’t even get your _belt_ off, asshole. Like you can take me. I’m all kinds of ready for this tonight.”

“One point off, Jefferson,” Washington says. He palms himself through his sweats and glances at Jefferson’s boxers as his pants come off. “You know the rules about cheap shots.”

“He started it -”

“Do you want to make it two?”

Jefferson grumbles but accepts the deduction, although he can’t resist flipping off Hamilton, who is grinning mockingly at him.

“Only one round tonight, you two. Make it count, get your marks in. I’m judging quality and quantity. Yes, Alex, _both,_ so you’d better step up your game. Ready?”

Jefferson is naked, cock stirring; Hamilton is still struggling out of his boxers. “Just a second,” he says.

“Great start for you, piggy,” Jefferson snickers.

“Do you want another point off, Thomas?” Washington says.

Jefferson makes a disgruntled noise. Hamilton steps out of his underwear and breathes, “ready -”

“Go,” Washington says.

Hamilton lunges and tackles Jefferson to the floor. They hit with a resounding thud, and then Hamilton is scrambling over him, sinking his teeth into Jefferson’s shoulder and shaking his head like a dog worrying a rat.

“Fuck,” Jefferson hisses, and he rakes his nails up along Hamilton’s back. Livid red welts rise under his fingers; he rakes up again, and this time there are little spots of blood, tiny tears along the tracks, and tears spring into Hamilton’s eyes. The teeth in his shoulder are tenacious - Hamilton refuses to let go - so Jefferson reaches up to pinch Hamilton’s nostrils shut, and the second Hamilton opens his mouth to draw in a lungful of air Jefferson is rolling them. He pins Hamilton and pushes his head back to suck a deep purple bruise just over his Adam’s apple.

“You both have openings,” Washington says from his position on the couch. His legs are spread and he’s halfway hard, but he makes no move to do anything about it.

Hamilton seizes the opening. He grabs Jefferson’s cock and jacks it a few times, pushing back the foreskin to run his thumb over the glans, and Jefferson hisses. It’s too sensitive and Hamilton _knows_ it. “Cheap shot,” he says, pulling off of Hamilton’s throat to speak.

“Nope,” Washington says. “Rule is no genital harm. Rubbing your dick isn’t harm. Suck it up.”

Hamilton grins. “Stop tattling, Jefferson.”

“I’m not the one who runs to daddy every time trial by fuck gets just a little too rough -”

Hamilton grabs Jefferson’s sides, between his ribs and his hip flexors, and digs his fingers in. Jefferson shrieks with laughter and squirms away.

“No tickling. Five points off,” Washington says, but Hamilton is already clawing and fighting Jefferson onto his back and sinking his mouth onto that thick cock. Jefferson segues from pained laughter to a deep groan, and for a single second he’s too absorbed in the sensation to fight back. Hamilton seizes the opportunity. He pulls off of Jefferson’s cock with a loud popping noise, lick-bite-sucks half a dozen bruises into the skin of Jefferson’s thigh with his characteristic rapid-fire technique, and then goes back to sucking Jefferson’s cock.

“You know,” he says, pulling off just enough to be understood, “this is hardly fair. It’s not like hickeys even _show_ on him.”

“They do if you do it right,” Jefferson snaps.

“They do,” Washington agrees. “Step up your game, Alexander.”

Jefferson raises an open palm. “Wash. Lube.”

“No anal,” Washington says.

“Last time we did trial by fuck, anal was on the table -”

“Last time we did trial by fuck, we did five rounds and I practically had to bubble wrap _both_ of your pelvises for a week. No anal. You’re wasting time.”

It’s true; in the time that Jefferson has been arguing, Hamilton has alternated between sucking Jefferson’s cock and thigh, and there’s a little trail of bruises. He has a particular way of leaving hickeys; he plants his lips on the skin, sucks as hard as he can, digs his teeth in deep, and then twists as he pulls off. The bruises don’t often last long - but while they’re there, they’re impressive. Jefferson hates him for his skill.

So instead of fingering Hamilton, he’ll just have to use his own talented mouth.

Hamilton may be tenacious and scrappy, but he’s also _small,_ and it’s far too easy for Jefferson to just pick him up. He hoists Hamilton, pulling him off his cock in the process, and slams him face-first onto the floor. He hears a crack; with his hand on the back of Hamilton’s neck, he asks, “was that anything important?”

“Nah. Nothing broken.”

“Good check,” Washington murmurs.

Hamilton squirms, but Jefferson keeps one hand on the back of his neck and puts the other on the back of one thigh to hold him against the floor. As Hamilton wriggles, Jefferson sucks deep marks into his ass.

Hamilton manages to push a little ways up from the floor with his arms, so Jefferson tangles his fingers in the raven hair knotted loosely into a ponytail, pulls back, and slams forward. Hamilton grunts and suddenly there’s blood, and Washington leans forward.

“Fine,” Hamilton mumbles, and Jefferson can hear in his voice just how delighted he is.

Washington settles back.

“Stay down,” Jefferson says, and then he’s tonguing Hamilton’s asshole, probing roughly. He isn’t there to be nice; he’s there to shake Hamilton apart. His cock throbs as he pushes the tip of his tongue as deep as he can.

Hamilton shudders, moans, arches, and stills. Jefferson absorbs himself in rimming Hamilton; he hums, grinding his hips against nothing, pushing his face against Hamilton’s ass while Hamilton angles his hips up to meet each probing thrust.

Jefferson takes the opportunity to claw Hamilton’s back again. More blood rises to the surface in little pinpricks; Hamilton hisses, and as Jefferson’s hand reaches the small of his back, he pushes up sharply and kicks out. The shock knocks Jefferson’s jaw shut, and then Hamilton is straddling him and yanking his hair viciously. It’s Jefferson’s turn to have his face slammed against the hardwood. He can feel something hot dripping on his back and knows it must be Hamilton’s blood.

“Stay down,” Hamilton says, mocking Jefferson. He shifts a little, and then he’s grinding on Jefferson’s back. There’s nothing for a moment, then a brutal, resounding slap over one shoulder blade, then the other. The wrist braces make it thud rather than sting. Jefferson throws himself to the side, twists, and gets Hamilton under him again.

“This happens every time you try to pin me,” Jefferson says. Hamilton is breathing hard. “It’s not going to happen, Hamilton. Accept it.”

“No,” Hamilton says. His face is a mess; blood drips steady from his nose, staining his lips and chin. There’s the start of a black eye, too.

Jefferson loves it.

He wraps Hamilton’s hair around one of his hands and sets to work slowly marking him tip to toe. Hamilton squirms and wriggles, fighting to get back on top, but Jefferson is huge and Hamilton, as energetic as he is, doesn’t have the stamina to keep up.

When Hamilton is peppered with bruises, Jefferson staggers to his feet, pulls Hamilton to his knees by his hair, and slides his cock between the lips red with blood. Hamilton sucks eagerly, and as he does, he taps three times on Jefferson’s thigh. Surrender.

“Who won?” Jefferson asks, but his wide grin is proof that he’s only asking for show.

“Gloating is unattractive,” Washington says. Hamilton barks a laugh.

“Just call it,” Jefferson says.

Washington raises his eyebrows. “No contest,” he says. “Ketchup on easy mac is clearly superior. Do you concede, Alexander?”

Hamilton shrugs. Close enough.

“Closing ceremonies,” Jefferson says, and when Washington doesn’t react fast enough, he repeats, more insistently, “closing ceremonies -”

“Hamilton, get the gear,” Washington says, and Jefferson releases Hamilton, who staggers into the bedroom to grab the black bag that rests under the bed. Jefferson takes the opportunity to flop onto the couch for a break.

“Did you have to bust his face like that?” Washington asks.

“He did the same thing to me,” Jefferson says.

“You didn’t get a nosebleed. I’m going to be washing that out of our sheets tomorrow morning.”

Hamilton returns and tosses the black bag to Washington. Washington pulls out a ring gag, beckons to Hamilton, and says, “down.” Obediently, Hamilton kneels and opens his mouth for Washington to fasten the gag in. The next thing out of the bag is a collar and leash; Washington buckles the collar around Hamilton’s neck, clips the short leash on, and hands the end to Jefferson.

“The reason anal wasn’t on the table,” he says, as he produces lube, slicks his fingers, and roughly fucks Hamilton open with them, “is so you’d have him nice and tight for your prize.”

Jefferson grins. His teeth are sharp and gleaming. “Good idea. There’s a reason you’re trial by fuck judge.”

Washington snorts in agreement. “Hamilton, you know where you’re supposed to be,” he says.

Hamilton does indeed know where he’s supposed to be. He drops a pile of cushions onto the seat of an armchair and stretches himself across the arms, angling his hips up and presenting his ass and his gagged mouth. His eyes are watering, one swollen partly closed, and blood still drips every so often from his nose.

“You’re beautiful,” Washington murmurs. Finally the sweatpants come off, and he strokes himself idly. “Jefferson, if you’d like to do the honours first?”

Jefferson doesn’t need to be asked twice. He plunges a finger into Hamilton’s ass, teases his prostate for a moment, then withdraws and jams his cock in. Hamilton makes a strangled noise and starts jerking his hips back; Jefferson fucks him out of sync with his jerks, hard and jarring and merciless, yanking back on the leash.

Washington slaps Hamilton’s cheeks with his cock. “Ready?” he says. “You remember how to tell us to stop if you need?”

Hamilton flips Washington off.

“Exactly. Get your throat ready, son.”

Washington pushes his cock through the ring. Every one of Jefferson’s thrusts jerks Hamilton forward, and soon Washington is fucking against them, forcing his cock down into Hamilton’s throat as far as it will go. Hamilton makes gagging noises for the first few thrusts, and then settles into the rhythm. His hand makes its way to his cock, which is hard and weeping, and jerks.

“If you come, you’ll be in a lot of trouble,” Washington warns. Hamilton grunts his understanding.

Jefferson is the first to blow. He snarls, shoves his hip forward as hard as he can, and shudders through his orgasm, curled over against Hamilton’s back. He takes a moment like that, breathing hard, and then pulls out and wipes his dick on Hamilton’s ass.

Washington takes longer. Without Jefferson pushing Hamilton’s throat onto his cock, he works harder, rolling his hips and pulling hard on the raven hair, now tangled and full of spit and blood. It doesn’t take all too long for him to come; he pulls almost all the way out, just resting the tip of his cock on Hamilton’s tongue, and jerking the shaft. Hamilton is drooling terribly, but he looks up and moans softly and that’s when Washington loses it. Come pools on Hamilton’s tongue and dribbles out through the hole in the gag, although he tips his head back and struggles to swallow.

Washington unfastens the gag and pulls it out and Hamilton moves his jaw a little to ease the stiffness. “On your back,” Washington says. Hamilton scrambles to obey; once he’s rolled over, battered body on display, Washington fists his cock and jerks hard and fast, just around the head.

“Lube,” Hamilton squeaks. Washington pops the lube open again, dribbles some into his palm, pushes back Hamilton’s foreskin, and jacks the glans. It’s too much; Hamilton is sensitive, so hard it hurts, and he begins to sob as Washington tortures him closer to the edge.

“Please,” he says, and then Jefferson yanks one of his nipples with one hand and presses down into a bruise with the other, and that’s what pushes him over. He spills hot and thick into Washington’s hand. Washington catches all of it, orders Hamilton, “open up,” and then feeds it all to him.

“Not a garbage bucket after all,” Jefferson says with delight. “Come bucket. Look at him, Wash.”

“He’s so greedy,” Washington agrees. Hamilton sucks the last of his own come off of Washington’s hand and preens.

The three of them make their way back to the sofa and settle back down. Hamilton sniffles every so often; the smell of blood is rusty and unavoidable, and altogether unpleasant with the smell of the macaroni and ketchup still on the floor.

“Clean that up, Thomas,” Washington says.

“I won trial by fuck, I’m a champion, I don’t have to do shit,” Jefferson protests.

“You won trial by fuck this time, but I’m fuck trial judge, and I don’t have to score you fairly next time,” Washington warns.

Jefferson grunts. “Five minutes,” he says.

“Five minutes,” Washington agrees, and the three of them melt together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trial by fuck should be a Thing tbh. anyway yell at me on [tunglr](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)  
> \- alex


	16. biting; jeffmads

“Thomas?”

“Shh.”

Jem squirms a little. He’s cold, shivering, skin rising into gooseflesh as he perches shirtless on a barstool at Thomas’s kitchen counter. “Thomas,” he says again, a little more insistently.

“Wait,” says Thomas.

Jem sighs, pouts, folds around himself. “You’re pissing me off,” he says. “You know I hate it when you do this.”

“You hate everything I do,” Thomas says absently. Suddenly he’s behind Jem, a towering wall, solid and reassuring; he pulls Jem back against him and lightly runs his nails along the jut of Jem’s collarbone. As the skin rises in a vivid line, Thomas asks, “what is it again?”

“Dermographism,” Jem says.

“And you haven’t told me about it ‘til now because -”

“Because I knew you’d do exactly this,” Jem says, and he snorts as Thomas writes  _ THOMAS  _ in welts down one arm.

“Does it hurt?”

“No. Gets itchy sometimes, but that’s only when I’m really stressed. Usually it just looks like that for a while.”

“This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” Thomas says.

“So your life is boring as fuck. Figures,” Jem says, and then he adds, fondly, “loser.”

Thomas idly scratches another line along Jem’s shoulder, examines it for a moment, and then bends over so close Jem can feel his breath wash hot over it. “What happens if I do this?” Thomas whispers, and then he licks it.

Jem shudders.

“Does that feel -”

“Just like normal skin. But I like it when you lick me.”

“Yeah?”

“I guess you can do at least  _ one _ useful thing with your mouth.”

Thomas huffs laughter, and then sinks his teeth into Jem’s shoulder.

Jem cries out and one of his hands flies up and back to bury itself in Thomas’s hair. He holds on fiercely, gripping the tight curls as though he’s afraid of being swept away, and when Thomas comes up for air, Jem sobs out, “why did you stop?”

“I wanted to see,” Thomas tells him, and he runs his fingers over the welts rising on Jem’s shoulder. They’re perfect imprints of Thomas’s teeth, shiny with saliva. In the warm yellow light of the ceiling lamps, they glow.

“How do they look?” Jem asks.

Thomas looks at him, his eyes ravenous, and he bares the sharp points of his teeth as he breathes, “ethereal.”

“You dramatic piece of shit -” Jem laughs, but he tugs Thomas around in front of him and buries his face against Thomas’s chest. Thomas rakes his nails up along Jem’s back and kisses the top of his head.

“I want to give you more,” he says.

“More marks?”

“I want to bite you. All over.”

Jem glances up, takes in Thomas’s lips and teeth and tongue, and pain spikes sharp in his jaw as he begins to salivate. Thomas has beautiful teeth, straight and sharp and big and perfectly pointed, and Jem doesn’t hesitate for a moment before he says, “God, yes. Yes. Fuck.”

So Thomas wastes no time sinking his teeth into Jem’s other shoulder. He nibbles a little, altering the pressure, and laving the space between his teeth with his tongue. When he pulls off, the marks rise almost instantly. Thomas blows across them and the chill makes Jem shiver.

“More,” Jem orders.

“Bed,” Thomas counters.

Jem scrambles to Thomas’s bedroom as fast as his scrawny little legs can carry him, and he’s quick enough that by the time he’s shucked off his pants and thrown himself on the bed, Thomas has just sauntered in. It’s cold, lying there just in his briefs on the cool plush of the down duvet, but the  _ look _ Thomas gives him makes it work it. Thomas looks at him like he’s a piece of meat to devour and Jem wonders idly how long it would take to cover his torso and thighs with bite marks.

“Are you just going to stand there and stare all day?” he snaps, and Thomas grins lazily.

“Do you want me to keep going?” Thomas asks. It’s a taunt, a threat - Jem knows that tone of voice, knows the intonation that means  _ respect me or I’ll stop doing that  _ thing _ you want and then pout for several hours about how you’ve wronged me. _

So he responds the way he always does, which is, “fuck you, dumpster fire, put your fucking mouth on me or I’ll shit in your shoes.”

Thomas throws himself on the bed, slinks up Jem’s body, and kisses him hard. He digs his teeth into Jem’s lip and tugs, and when he pulls away, Jem can feel welts rise on the inside and outside of his lower lip. Thomas wastes no time in biting Jem’s throat, the muscle above each of his nipples, the tender skin just below his navel. Each bite makes Jem arch and shudder and gasp.

“More,” he demands.

So Thomas bites marks in a long line, a garland, over where the waistband of Jem’s briefs rest on his hips. He bites into the barest hint of pudge in Jem’s belly. He leaves a trail of welts up his sides, from his hips to his ribs, and when he gets up to the ribs he sucks a bruise into the skin at Jem’s sternum. It won’t show, not with Jem’s complexion - but Thomas is  _ delighted  _ to see that that welts as well.

“That’s adorable,” he says.

“Shut up and do something less annoying with your mouth.”

Thomas leaves a trail of welts, hickeys and bites, down to Jem’s navel, and then he pauses. There’s a little line of hair there; Thomas traces slowly up and down along it with his tongue tip. Every so often he dips a little below Jem’s navel and teases the skin there.

“You’re gonna rub me raw there,” Jem says, after an eternity.

Thomas kisses his navel firmly. “Hey, are you up for sex today?”

Jem carefully sorts through the sensations in his body. He considers how exhausted he is against how turned on he is, how hard his cock is in his briefs, and finally whispers, “yes.”

Thomas grins and moves lower. He opens his mouth, and as Jem watches, tight with arousal and quivering, he runs his teeth gently against the outline of Jem’s cock in his briefs. He doesn’t bite down, but there’s enough pressure that Jem can feel it - feel his teeth, and the heat of his mouth.

“Please,” Jem breathes, and Thomas bites the waistband of Jem’s briefs and pulls them down.

“See what happens when you ask nicely?” he asks, and then there’s no more space for words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the lateness my kidneys tried to murder me [i managed to stop their uprising]
> 
> chastise me on [tumblr](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)
> 
> -alex


	17. stripping; jeffmads

James can get quite self conscious. He knows that he isn’t the most fit, and that he’s got a little chub around his sides from lying in bed and reading most of the day away. 

It’s especially harder, however, with a boyfriend like Thomas. Who prides himself in being top physical form, goes to the gym an unthinkable amount of times per week, and invests in…  _ protein shakes _ .

His ridiculous amount of selfies after each gym session just stand to prove how much he cares about his appearance. 

So after all this, James doesn’t really see how he fits into Thomas’ world. How on earth someone like him, small and not exactly in the best shape, lives up to all that Thomas seems to care about. 

He sighs, flopping back onto the bed. It’s not like he does that much in their relationship either. Thomas is always the one taking them out to cool places, navigating parties and always making sure to check up on him when he’s sick. He just kind of feels like an add on to him. Something replaceable. 

Just then, a knock comes at the door, before the scuffle that usually accompanies Thomas as he puts down all his bags. He seems to walk into almost everything on the way to the bedroom, and James rolls his eyes.

“James!” He sings out as he flounces into the room, somehow looking flawless after his session at the gym. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“You’ve been gone for 2 hours.” James informs him quietly, but a smile still tugs at his lips.

“What that doesn’t mean I can’t miss you?” Thomas shakes his head as if the very suggestion of that is ridiculous. 

James lets Thomas drape himself over him, and just breaths in for a moment, before pushing him off.

“I have to take a bath, so you have to go.” 

“But Jem-” He begins to whine but James holds up a hand, stopping hi with a fond smile. 

“Go on. I won’t be that long.”

“Yes you will, you’re going to light your fancy candles and not let me in-” Thomas grumbles, but still untangles himself from James, much like an octopus disentangling its tentacles.

James snorts at the thought of Thomas as an octopus, making him look towards him with suspicion. He just shoos him away as answer.

Stepping into the bathroom, he breathes a sigh of relief. Pushing the plug in, he turns the two taps, watching as hot water spills into the tub. Once it’s risen to at least a centimetre in height, he grabs the bubble bath mixture, squeezing just a bit into the water. Waving his hand through the water, he sighs at the heat that soaks right down to his bones. 

Standing back up, he starts pulling his sweater over his head. He can feel the t-shirt underneath start to drag up his stomach and wriggles a bit to get the collar up over his head. The cold air hitting his stomach makes him suck in a breath, muscles tensing instinctively.

He finally manages to pull it off, dislodging his glasses in the process. As he pushes them back up on his nose, he looks up, blinking. And makes direct eye contact with Thomas. 

His mind goes blank in a moment of panic, but his hands continue moving, out of habit from years of repetition. As he pulls his shirt properly over his head, he hears an inhale from Thomas.

He flushes, but decides it’s too late now, and pulls off his pants quickly, ducking his head to avoid Thomas’ gaze. He feels vulnerable and exposed, and he doesn’t know why. He wants Thomas to do something, anything, but at the same time nothing at all.

Then warm arms are wrapping around him, and his head tilts up to meet Thomas’ lips in a warm kiss. His hands come up to brace themselves on his shoulders, and he laughs at Thomas’ huff of disapproval when his glasses knock against his face.

“You look amazing.” Thomas breathes, between peppering his face with kisses. “I never see you like this, and I’ve always felt like I’ve been missing out.”

“Why?” James flushes at the barrage of compliments, and his heart flutters.

“Because you look gorgeous.” Thomas murmurs against his lips, pushing him gently against the wall.

Hips pressed flush together, James looks up, insecurities still running through his mind.

“Do you-” He hesitates, chewing on his lip. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course!” Thomas sounded surprised, as if he couldn’t believe that James would think otherwise. He grins, rolling his hips forward. “Isn’t this enough proof?”

James moans breathily and pushes forward when Thomas’ hips detach themselves, a needy whine on his lips.

He chuckles low in his throat and presses forward, mouth landing wet and hot to suck at James’ neck, teeth scraping over sensitive skin. He leaves a trail of dark bruises on his neck, and James groans, pushing his hands into Thomas’ hair. 

He feels that Thomas is terribly overdressed, and tries to tug at his shirt, an indication that it should come off. 

Thomas pulls off his neck reluctantly, and steps back. James furrows his brow.

“Why’d you do that-” His sentence stutters to a halt as Thomas begins to unbutton his shirt. He does it more slowly than usual, and maintains eye contact with James as he does. His eyes are hooded and there’s a smug smile on his lips. Casting the shirt aside dramatically, he pulls off the singlet underneath. There’s a clear confidence in the way he holds himself, and James bites his lip. 

Shimmying out of pants as tight as his, would normally be an ungraceful action, but Thomas somehow manages to do it nicely, pulling them off in one fluid motion. 

Stepping forward again, he pulls James into a kiss, running his hands down his sides as if he can’t get enough of him. 

James gets lost in the feeling of euphoria, pressing forward for desperate kisses, and grinding hard against Thomas as sparks shoot behind his eyes.

Then he stops. Thomas makes a noise of confusion, which turns into alarm as James shrieks.

“Oh my god I left the bath water running!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that was a fun time! come talk to me on [tumblr](http://draconequss.tumblr.com/)


	18. passionate; jamilton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> passionate sex in a closet

Alex laughs giddily as Thomas pulls him into a cupboard, before pushing him against the door and covering his mouth. 

“Shut it, Hamilton.” He hissed, eyes narrowing. “If someone catches us, it’ll be all your fault.”

“I’m not the one who’s so horny he has to get it off in an office cupboard.” Alex snarks back, making Thomas roll his eyes. “I mean jeez, ever heard of controlling your dick-”

The last part of his sentence is muffled as Thomas leans in to seal his mouth over Alex’s, successfully shutting him up. His arms wind eagerly around his shoulders and tug at his curls, tilting his head back invitingly. One of Thomas’ hands works itself into his hair, long fingers tangling in the strands and tugging  _ just so _ .

His leg pushes insistently between Alex’s, and Alex spreads his own eagerly, grinding up against his thigh. He groans as Thomas nips at the skin just under his jaw, feels the soft material of his suit under his hands. 

He whines as Thomas suddenly lifts his head away. “What?”

“I told you to be quiet.” 

Alex blinks at this, before narrowing his eyes at Thomas’ playful tone. 

“If you can’t be quiet-” He tilts his head, faux sympathetic.

“I can. I can be absolutely silent.” Alex grins. He couldn’t be quiet if they kept just doing what they were but… 

Thomas raises an eyebrow, sensibly skeptical.

This expression quickly turns into a realisation, and then a pleased grin as Alex drops to his knees. 

Pulling Thomas’ pants down, he looks up, licking his lips. Leaning forward, he pulls his straining cock out of his boxers. It rests heavy in his hand, and he licks his lips, making Thomas groan above him.

“Oh no Thomas, if I’m keeping quiet, you have to as well.” He makes a tutting noise, before leaning forward to kiss at the crease of Thomas’ inner thigh. A sharp inhale from above him makes him grin. 

He kisses carefully, hot and wet around his dick, and a sharp tug at his hair indicates Thomas’ displeasure with the situation. He grins against his skin and sucks hard at his hip, leaving a dark bruise, as he nips at his oversensitive skin.

“Patience is key, Jefferson. You’re never going to get anything done without any patience.” He adopts a monotone voice as he says this, barely able to restrain his laughter.

“Don’t quote Burr at me during sex, jesus christ Alex.” 

He giggles - he denies that he giggles but Thomas knows what a giggle sounds like - and leans forward again. Thomas sucks in a breath as his breath flutters over the head of his cock. Alex parts his lips, and looks up at Thomas as he sucks languidly at his dick, one hand massaging his balls. Eyes fluttering shut at the steady weight of his cock against his tongue, he braces a hand against Thomas’ twitching hips. 

Popping off, he licks up from the base of his cock, hands cupping Thomas’ balls gently. He lets out a throaty groan, and Alex immediately pulls away, making him swear.

“Fuck, christ Alex you can’t just do that.” 

“Yes I absolutely can.” He says teasingly. “I’m not the one who made this ‘rule of silence’.”

“It’s a rule born out of necessity!”

“You have never sounded more pretentious.” Alex laughs. Thomas starts to say an indignant statement before Alex swallows him down again. He cuts himself off with a choked off groan. 

Alex’s nose hits Thomas’ pubes as his hand pushes him further down his cock. Giving a few hard sucks, he hums around his dick as Thomas tugs at his hair, making Thomas let out hitched groans above him. Suddenly, his hand tightens in Alex’s hair, and his hips twitch forward, making his eyes water as his cock nudges at the back of his throat.

Then Thomas is spilling his load down his throat with a groan, going lax against the wall. Alex swallows it all down, before wiping at his mouth with a grin. Smirking up at Thomas, he stands, pressing their mouths together in a kiss. 

“So. How was it.” He’s always unbelievably smug after a good blowjob. 

“Christ Alex, do you have to do this every time? You’re really good at sucking me off, okay.” Thomas’ annoyed tone is mellowed by the teasing smile on his face.

Alex can feel his dick tenting his pants, and he reaches down to palm at it through his pants, groaning at the friction from the fabric. 

He gasps as Thomas makes them switch, pushing him against the wall with a searing kiss, and pulling his hands away from his pants. Pinning them above Alex’s head, he grins, against his lips. 

“Time for me to return the favour.”

Pushing his hand down Alex’s pants, his hand wraps around his dick, pulling it out of his boxers. Alex groans as he twists his wrist up his cock, swipes his thumb over the head to gather the precum. He thrusts helplessl into the Thomas’ lax grip, and whines for more contact, instead of just the fluttering touches that he’s being left with.

He gasps as Thomas tugs suddenly harder at his dick, palming at the base of it in hard, circular motions. His mouth falls open as he leans his head back against the door

His hips stutter as Thomas pulls, tight fisted and slow, but gaining speed with every tug of his wrist.

His mind finally whites out as he spills over into Thomas’ hand, hands clawing at his shoulders. 

As Alex shudders to a stop, he cracks open his eyes, grinning up at Thomas. “So how are we getting out of here now?”

Thomas, who was in the process of gingerly wiping off his hand, pauses. “Wouldn’t we just...get out?”

“Do you want the whole office to know we were fucking?” Alex raises an eyebrow.

“Listen.” Thomas places his untainted hand on his shoulder. “From the amount of nosie you made, I’d be surprised if they  _ didn’t _ know.”

They both jump as the cupboard door opens, and Alex’s hand immediately moves to cover his dick.

“Jesus christ!” Aaron shrieks, dropping all of his papers. “Get out! Put your dicks back in your pants! I never wanted to see any of this!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> poor burr
> 
> written by draconequss


	19. sloppy sex; hamilton and everyone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter includes watersports. turn back now

Wash straps Alex’s ankle down. All four of his limbs are restrained, prostrating him over something that looks like the bastard offspring of a clothes horse and a bench. It’s not horribly uncomfortable - there’s a leather top, luxuriously padded for extended use - but already his legs are a little tender, just from the angle they’re bent at.

“Can you get my knees a little more bent?” Alex asks.

Wash lifts the spreader bar between Alex’s ankles up to the next notch on the bench. “Better?” he asks.

“One more,” Alex suggests, and then the angle is perfect and he breathes out a sigh of contentment. “Perfect. Thank you.”

Wash ghosts his fingertips along Alex’s spine. “Last chance to back out. If you safeword, whoever’s with you will let you go - you know that - but once I leave this room I won’t be back. Not til tonight. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Alex says. “You sure you don’t want to jump in early?”

Wash crouches in front of him and kisses him hard. For a moment, Alex closes his eyes and lets himself get swept up in the way it feels to have his Sir’s tongue exploring his mouth. There’s a peculiar ache in his chest, something that might be love or adoration or worship or the peculiar pain that mortals must feel when they catch a glimpse of divinity.

Then Wash pulls back and gently taps Alex’s cheek. “I want you all used up for me, pretty boy,” he says, his voice soft and dangerous. “Want that hole stretched out and dripping. When you’re nice and open for me, I’m gonna come fill you up. Not before.”

“Yes, sir,” Alex says.

“Good,” says Wash, and he gets up and crosses to the door out of Alex’s line of sight. There’s silence, and then the creak of the door opening and Wash’s voice, distant, saying, “he’s open, boys. Help yourself.”

And then there are footsteps, and the caress of a hand on his ass, and Alex shudders in anticipation.

 

* * *

 

By three hours in, his ass feels like it’s just … gaping open. His thighs are slick with lube and he  _ knows  _ he’s dripping come, and he can’t count how many times Hercules has used him already. 

“How the hell do you have this much stamina?” he asks, as Hercules lines up and pushes into his ass again. There’s no stretch; the whole length of that fat cock slips home easily.

“I work out. You know how you’re not supposed to skip leg day? You don’t skip dick day either.” Herc grunts and begins fucking Alex in earnest. His thrusts are sharp and rapid, and he groans and huffs and pants as he fucks.

“So do you lift - ahh - weights with your dick -” Alex cuts himself off and moans as Herc angles up and rubs against his prostate. “- or do you - fuck -”

“I do fuck,” Herc tells him.

“Clearly -”

Alex’s cock is trapped underneath him, pointing straight down through the slit cut into the bench. He wonders idly if it’s worth asking Herc to jack him off.

Then Hercules makes a strangled noise and collapses forward onto Alex’s back. His weight is crushing, putting delicious pressure on Alex, and even after taking so many loads he can feel each spurt of semen Herc pumps into him.

“Thank you for your come,” Alex says. He’s well trained.

Herc slaps his ass and pulls out. Alex can feel come dripping out of him and dribbling down his balls. A drop hits the floor.

“See you when the big guy wakes back up,” Hercules says, and then Alex is alone again, hard and aching.

 

* * *

 

Gilbert comes to him for the first time around noon. He examines Alex thoroughly, from his well-used ass to his swollen lips, and then feeds his cock into the eager mouth.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, fucking deep into Alex’s throat. “Get me nice and wet.”

Alex moans and he feels his asshole clench weakly. He grinds down against the bench, seeking some kind of friction, but there’s nothing touching his cock; it just swings a little, painfully hard.

“You need a hand?” Gil asks. Alex whimpers assent. Gil pulls his cock out of Alex’s mouth and comes around to his side, leans over, wraps a hand around the weeping head of Alex’s dick. It only takes a few thrusts for Alex to come. His load joins the come that’s dripped on the floor from his ass.

It’s then that Gil dribbles more lube on his asshole, lines up, and shoves in. He keeps a hand on the head of Alex’s cock, which is tender and sensitive, and before long Alex is sobbing from overstimulation. He hardly even feels it when Gil fills him up with another load. All he notices is when he comes dry, weeping through the agonizing climax.

“Thank you for your come,” he chokes out through his tears.

Gil pulls out and slaps his ass hard. “We should tie you up more often,” he says.

When he leaves, he leaves the door open, destroying the last shreds of Alex’s dignity.

 

* * *

 

Jefferson - of course it’s Jefferson who comes to him next. Alex wonders if he’s been walking by to stare at him, laugh at him, mock him behind his back.

Jefferson pushes his thumb into Alex’s mouth. “Brought a friend,” he says absently, and then there’s more lube and the feeling of a finger pushing into him.

“Like throwing a hot dog down a hallway,” comes Madison’s husky drawl.

“Since when have you complained about having a warm hole to stuff your dick in, Jemmy?”

The finger pulls out and is replaced with a cock, surprisingly thick. There isn’t anything astounding by way of length, but that’s fine; it’s wide enough to fill him, and that’s all Alex wants. He groans and rolls his hips as Jefferson unzips his fly. The half-hard length of Jefferson’s cock hits Alex in the cheek. He knows his cue; he opens his mouth and waits as Jefferson jacks off, laying the tip of his cock over Alex’s lip.

Madison grunts behind him and there’s a little warmth inside him. Jefferson glances up and suddenly his face changes. He looks ravenous.

“Do it, Jemmy,” he says.

Alex teases the tip of Jefferson’s cock with his tongue, contemplating clenching his ass around Madison, and then there’s a flood of wet heat in him. Jefferson chokes and comes, hard, the first shot hitting the back of Alex’s throat with enough force to make him cough and splutter, and then there’s the sound of liquid - lots of it - hitting the floor. It floods out of his ass and down his thighs and Jem makes a soft noise, a little sigh of relief.

“Thought he’d be able to actually hold some of it,” Madison says, and when he pulls out there’s another gush of piss down his thighs.

“All stretched out like that? Yeah, right,” Jefferson says. He absently wipes his cock on Alex’s cheek and steps back to examine the mess. After a moment’s thought, he circles around behind Alex, stuffs the head of his softening cock into the gape of his ass, and waits. It isn’t long before there’s another flood inside of him.

“Thank you for your come,” Alex says. He pauses, his face flushes deep red, and he adds, “and your -”

He can’t finish the sentence. Jefferson laughs.

“The pleasure was all ours,” he says.

“He’s going to need to spend a couple hours cleaning up tonight,” Madison says as he and Jefferson leave.

Alex relaxes his ass. He can feel more dripping, and it should be embarrassing, but he’s rock hard again.

He wonders if that’s something he can ask for - that warm flood, that incredible sensation of being filled and emptied and filled again.

 

* * *

 

When Burr comes in, he’s silent. All he says is, “oh, shit,” and then he’s inside Alex, fucking desperately.

He pulls out and comes all over Alex’s back, hot sprays that spatter across his skin and itch as they pool where his spine dips. Burr takes his time recovering, stroking Alex’s cock idly, and after a while he slips his dick back in for another round. It’s the same thing - he pulls out to come on Alex. This time, he smears his hands through the mess, spreading semen over Alex’s skin.

“Thank you for your come,” Alex breathes.

Burr doesn’t say anything in response. He breathes out a little harder through his nose, and then leaves, shutting the door quietly behind him.

 

* * *

 

“You smell,” John says when he saunters into the room mid-afternoon.

“Thanks,” Alex says.

John wastes no time pushing down his pants and sliding into Alex’s ass. Alex makes a noise and John takes a moment to lube him up a little more.

“Thought you’d be prepared.”

“It’s been a while since anyone’s been in here. Be nice to my ass. I need it for things beside fucking, you know.”

“Yeah?” John spits and it hits Alex mid-back. The length of his cock pushes back in, roughly saws in and out, dragging over Alex’s prostate with every thrust. “You think you’re good for  _ anything _ but fucking now? You’re ruined, buddy. We should do this every day - just tie you up here so anyone in the office can come use you - you’re like a stress ball, but fuckable. Goddamn, you’re so  _ loose, _ aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Alex moans. He arches his back and pushes back against John as hard as he can.

“And it isn’t just come you’re taking, is it? I can smell it -”

“John - please.” Alex flushes again.

“Yeah?” John prompts.

“Please -”

“I’m not gonna piss in you,” John says. “But I like knowing someone else did.”

Alex groans deep in his throat. John leans forward and lays his head against Alex’s back as he fucks, hard and fast. For a moment, it’s just the two of them melting together, and when John starts coming, Alex closes his eyes and wonders what it would be like to have sex normally, without any orders.

They snuggle - at least, as best they can - while John recovers. His dick softens and slips out, and that’s when he finally stirs to leave.

“Thank you for your come,” Alex murmurs.

“Thank you, Alex,” John says. There’s a stroke along his back, gentle and kind, and then John is gone as well.

 

* * *

 

The office shuts down for the night at six PM. At 5:57, according to the clock just barely within Alex’s line of sight, Washington comes into the room and shuts the door. Alex hears the sound of the lock sliding home.

“How are you feeling?” Wash asks. His voice is soft and solid and Alex feels his whole body go limp.

“I need you, sir,” Alex breathes.

“Look how stretched out you are,” Wash says, and two fingertips rub the worn, raw ring of his asshole. Alex can feel lube dried tacky on his thighs, semen viscous on his balls. As Wash fingers him, he can feel the come inside him squishing.

“Yes, sir,” Alex says.

“How many loads did you take today, Alex? Did you count for me?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Alex says. “A lot. Almost everyone came at least twice -”

“Look at you, all used up for me.” There’s the sound of a zipper, the sudden chill of lube dribbling over his asshole, the pressure of a huge blunt head pushing inside of him. It hurts, being this used, this stretched; Alex whimpers a little as Wash slides home.

Wash doesn’t fuck him like the others fuck him. Wash is slow, methodical, forceful, dicking him deep with every thrust, taking his time to string Alex out.

“I hear James made a mess of you,” Wash says. Aside from slightly heavier breathing, he sounds perfectly normal.

“Yes,” Alex whimpers. “And then Jefferson.”

“How did you like that, pretty boy?”

Alex moans and grinds back. Wash huffs with laughter.

“You liked it that much, hmm? Maybe I’ll have to do that to you, then.”

“Please,” Alex sobs. “Please.”

“Make me come first.”

So Alex rolls his hips and clenches his ass and whines and moans. He works that cock harder than he’s ever worked a cock before. Each thrust aches and tugs painfully, but it’s all worth it for the moment that Wash starts panting.

When Wash comes, he comes hard, shuddering and grunting. There’s a moment of quiet and then the flood of wet heat Alex has been craving for hours. He clenches, struggling to hold it in, but it drips out of him despite his best efforts. He whines a little and then he’s sobbing, crying while piss leaks out of him around Washington’s cock.

“Why are you crying, pretty boy?” Wash pulls out and circles around to crouch in front of Alex. He kisses the tracks of the tears streaming down Alex’s face.

“I’m so tired,” Alex breathes, and he closes his eyes. “I’ve wanted you all day.”

“You have me, sweetheart. What’s say we get you cleaned up?”

Alex is patient while Wash takes off the wrist and ankle cuffs, patient while Wash helps him stand on unsteady legs, patient while Wash fetches baby wipes and cleans up his legs and ass. His patience runs out when Wash tries to dress him.

“No clothes,” Alex says stubbornly. “Cuddle me.”

“At least put your boxers on.”

“No,” says Alex.

“Okay,” Wash agrees, voice light and floaty. He collapses into the armchair in the corner of the room and Alex throws himself into his lap.

“Thank you for your come, sir,” Alex says.

“Hush now, pretty boy,” Wash tells him, and he kisses Alex’s temple. “Just relax. Let me take care of you for a while.”

And Alex, exhausted, still leaking come and lube, closes his eyes and smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probably the most sinful thing ive ever written. tell me off on [tumblr](http://alexangery.tumblr.com) or whatever  
> \- alex.


	20. Sexy Christmas Costume; Hamburr

Aaron was a man of simple pleasures, and it made him difficult to shop for. At first, Alex had relied on gifts that had meaning, but then he’d switched to experiences - a ticket to a show, or cooking lessons. Aaron treasured the world around him, and he liked to experience it. 

This year, Alex knew exactly what to get Aaron, or rather what to do for him. 

Earlier in the year, Alex and Aaron had been shopping with Lafayette for a birthday gift for his George. Lafayette had been going on and on about how the man was impossible to shop for because he seemed perfectly content with what he had - and he had resorted to treating him with a weekend getaway.

Lafayette had made it sound like such a chore, but Alex knew he was looking forward to it. The gifts they were shopping for were lingerie. Alex didn’t need to know his boss had a thing for Lafayette in lace, but these things happened. Alex was there to offer second opinion on everything Lafayette tried on, and Aaron was there because Alex was.

It wasn’t the worse thing they had ever done, for Lafayette was a very beautiful man, and he knew it. What stood out about the experience was Aaron’s sudden interested look that crossed his face when Lafayette mentioned Alex should try some on too for fun. He hadn’t, as the least expensive thing in the store was fifty dollars, and he wasn’t going to settle for anything less than a full set.

Alex had paid attention to Aaron for the rest of the day, and noted how his hand lingered on a corset displayed on a mannequin.

When black friday came along, Alex had dragged Lafayette back to the store, and had come out with a ridiculous red satin corset set. It had black trim, and silver clasps and laces. It shaped his waist in the most painful and beautiful fashion, and according to Lafayette, the red set off the warmth and richness of his skin in the most striking way possible. He had picked up some black stockings and a garter belt to go with the panties.

Lafayette had gotten a matching corset in navy blue, and started muttering about how much George loved him in the color. Alex had shaken his head, and did his best to forget that detail.

Alex and Aaron both went into work on Christmas Eve, and it was then that Alex decided to implement his plan. He put on his stockings and garter belt, and had called Lafayette into the bathroom to tighten the lacing early in the morning. 

The corset made him stand straighter, and he wore a dark red shirt over it. The lines of it were noticeable, but only if one took the time to look. 

Alex hadn’t expected Aaron to notice during the day. He had planned on suffering through the discomfort, and feeling satisfaction when Aaron realized he had worn it the entire day. Aaron wasn’t one that was easily influenced, and his passion was slow to build - but press the right buttons and Alex would find himself on the end of it as if it was a bullet fired from a gun.

That is not what happened.

Alex was getting a cup of coffee when he heard footsteps behind him. The hand on his shoulder told him it was Aaron, and he looked up to smile. They were alone in the small room, and Aaron leaned against the counter, “we get off early today because of Christmas Eve.”

“Yeah, what about it?”

Aaron smiled, “Just wanted to make sure you knew, with your tendency to stay late.”

Alex pushed his shoulder into Aaron’s side and laughed, “Yes, yes, I know. Besides, I’m sure you’ll remind me at one exactly since we’re leaving together to meet up with Eliza and them.”

“You’re right,” Aaron leaned down to press a kiss to Alex’s cheek, his hand settling on Alex’s hip, and he promptly froze. His grip became firmer, and it stroke up the side of Alex’s torso until it settled at the dip in Alex’s waist. He took in a sudden breath, “Alex, what is this?”

Alex chuckled, “Um, it’s your Christmas present - you weren’t supposed to see it until we got home tonight.”

“You were going to wear this all day?”

Alex nodded, and brought his mug close to his chest, “Yeah.”

Aaron’s hand squeezed his waist before it dropped away, “come to my office, now.”

Alex followed Aaron, and as soon as he crossed the threshold, the door was shut, and he was pushed against it. Aaron’s one hand went to the small of his back, stroking up and down over the lacing, while the other went to the side of his face, “I cannot believe you.”

He put his arms over Aaron’s shoulders, “Oh?”

Aaron’s hands both moved to his shirt, and started to unbutton it. Alex was grateful he hadn’t worn a tie today for the sake of maintaining a casual atmosphere, as it meant he got to here the pleased sounds leaving Aaron’s mouth as skin and then satin was revealed.

His shirt was shoved to the floor, and Aaron’s hands went to his waist, “it’s so tiny.”

Alex nodded, “yeah.”

When Aaron met his eyes, his pupils were blown wide, “you’re keeping this on until tonight. I have plans for you.”

“Plans?” Alex smirked, and as soon as the word left his mouth, a pair of lips was pressed against his own. His hands went back to their place around Aaron’s neck, and he moaned into the kiss, “What kind of plans?”

Aaron pulled away, “Ones you’ll like. Now, go lean over my desk, ass toward the door.”

Alex did as instructed, and hands went around his hips to fiddle with the button and zipper of his pants before they and his panties were shoved down, leaving his ass bare. Aaron pressed forward, and Alex gasped when he felt Aaron’s clothed cock press against him. Aaron bent forward and whispered in his ear, “this is for later, but I want you to know how worked up I am, what you do to me. I didn’t know I loved your ass in lace so much.”

“Please, please, let’s not wait. I can suck you down right now, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You could stain this pretty corset, and I’d have to wear it for the rest of the day, and we’d both know. It’d be our secret.” Alex had never been one too shut up.

Aaron groaned in his ear, “You know how much I’d love that, but we have to keep ourselves respectable. And don’t get too worked up, since if I’m not getting off from this, neither are you. I’m simply having you like this for my viewing pleasure.”

Alex moaned, and Aaron stood up, hips still pressed against him, and hands stroking up and down the lacing. The hands left, but his ass cheeks were pulled apart, and he felt hot breath against his hole.

“Oh,” Alex gasped, and took in a deep breath, “I’m not going to be able to keep quiet if you do what I think you’re going to.”

Aaron chuckled, “try,” and a wet tongue swiped across his hole. 

Alex bit down on his lip, and gripped his hands on the edge of the wooden desk. The corset and position restricted his breath, and he could feel himself getting light-headed. Somehow, it only served to make the sensations even more intense.

“You said I’m not supposed to cum.”

Aaron pulled away, “No, you’re not. I want you to think about this and me all day.”

“If you don’t stop now I’m going to,” Alex panted.  
Aaron sounded surprised when he said, “No way.”

Alex nodded, “Yes.”

Aaron’s hands left his skin, and he heard Aaron stand up. He was turned around, and Aaron’s lips met his own, his hard cock trapped between them. Alex pulled away, “i’m going to stain your shirt.”

Aaron stepped back, “I suppose you’re right.”

They stood in silence as Alex pulled his pants back on. Aaron leaned against the door, and Alex took a step forward, painfully aware of his clothed, hard cock, “you know, I really want to suck you down.”

Aaron laughed, “And I really want you to, but no orgasms in the office.”

“Are you kidding me?”

Aaron shook his head, “No.”

“I hate you.”

Aaron chuckled, “No you don’t, now calm yourself and return to work.”

He didn’t encounter anyone on the walk back to his desk, and when he sat down, he was unable to focus on the computer. Every time he’d breathe in, Alex felt the corset, and it was a painful reminder of just how turned on he still was and what he had to look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By ashilrak


	21. Wrapped Up Like A Christmas Present; Hamlaf, Whamilton

It had been an embarrassing ordeal to get here. Very few people who he knew were free or interested in cancelling their Christmas Eve plans. Of those few people, the only one that actually agreed after learning what it was Alex was asking them to do was Lafayette.

It really shouldn’t have surprised him. 

Alex had been friends with Lafayette for years, and they had sought comfort in each other more than a few times. That had only really stopped when George had made it clear he wanted more than just a willing body on lonely nights, and Lafayette had never kept his attraction to Washington a secret.

Lafayette burst into the apartment without knocking, taking off his coat and shouting through the living room, “Alex dear, I’m home. Or rather I’m in your apartment and ready to wrap you up for your dearest George.”

Alex set down his coffee and walked into the living room and said, “the stuff’s there, he likes me in green, so there’s some ribbon and stuff. I know you’re into this shit, so I’m handing the creative reins to you.”

He regretted that decision as soon as the words left his mouth because Lafayette laughed and stepped forward and started to yank his sweater up over his head. The air was cold against his skin, and he gasped when Lafayette’s fingers traced along his collarbone, “You know, mon ami, I’ve missed you.”

Alex took in a breath, “I’ve missed you too.”

Lafayette’s hand pressed flat to his chest, rubbing against his nipple in a purposeful way, “You haven’t had time with George in a while, have you?”

“No,” Alex shook his head, “he’s been busy with work.”

Lafayette took a step closer, and leaned down to whisper in his ear, “He hasn’t been taking care of you, your skin is flawless. I do remember how you enjoy being covered in bruises.” Lafayette’s hand twisted his nipple, and Alex let out a moan.

“Laf, we can’t do this.”

Lafayette pressed a kiss to the spot right below Alex’s ear and said, “Well, your Geroge is expected home in about an hour, non?” Alex nodded, and Lafayette continued, “That is plenty of time for us to play, and you need to be hard and wanting for him when he arrives, don’t you think?”

Alex moaned when Lafayette bit where he had kissed, and nodded and said, “no marks.”

“Of course,” Lafayetted said as he slipped his hand down the back of Alex’s jeans, “do we want you to be stretched for him? I could leave you gaping open, or I could fill you with a nice plug. I’m sure you still have your collection.” Lafayette pushed his hips forward, “What would your George do if he took out the plug to find you filled with another man’s cum?”

Alex bit down on Lafayette’s clothed shoulder instead of speaking, but Lafayette got the message, “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

Alex didn’t let himself nod. Inviting Lafayette to do this for him wasn’t his smartest decision, and the small amount of self-control he had was being tested. Alex raised his hand to grip the fabric of Lafayette’s shirt, “take this off.”

Lafayette clicked his tongue and shook his head, “No, I am staying fully clothed, you’re no longer mine, after all. You, on the other hand, need to get naked.”

“Fine,” Alex grumbled. He stepped away and shoved his jeans to the ground, followed by his boxers. Lafayette put a hand on his hair and pulled with the slightest pressure. 

Lafayette ignored his gasp and said, “We can’t have you making a mess like that, can we? Fold your clothing, show your George you’re putting effort and care into this. You’ve told me he is ever so particular about things. And since this is a gift for him, we must do things his way.”

A hand went back to his ass and pulled him tight against Lafayette once more. Lafayette smiled down at Alex, and pulled Alex’s hair with more force. Lafayette’s lips were pressed against his open mouth, and he moaned into the kiss. 

Lafayette pulled away, “Go get lube.”

Alex nodded, and went to go get it. When he came back, he handed the bottle to Lafayette, and dropped down to his knees, “You should get a reward for doing this for me.” Alex looked up, and saw that Lafayette’s eyes were dark as he said, “Later, now, since you’re already kneeling for me, lean forward and I’ll prepare you like this.”

He heard Lafayette uncap the lube, and a moment later, he felt a slick finger prod at his entrance. Alex gasped, and Lafayette’s other hand went to his hip to steady him, “I miss the feeling of you around me.”

By the time Lafayette had three fingers in him, Alex was a whimpering mess with his face pressed against the carpet. Lafayette withdrew his fingers, and Alex let out a whine. Lafayette chuckled, “I brought this with me, since I knew it was your favorite.” A plug replaced Lafayette’s fingers and Alex gasped, “Ah, oh.”

“Now your George will know you brought in outside help, do you like that thought - the look that will be on his face when he sees?” 

Alex groaned, and Lafayette laid a light smack to the bare skin of his ass, “Now, you’re all prepared for your George, we just need to work on the display.”

Alex sat up, and turned to face Lafayette, “Is now later?” He gave a meaningful glance to the bulge in Lafayette’s jeans. Lafayette sighed, “We have less than twenty minutes until your George comes home, and I plan on being out of here quite a while before then, or else know that I would not hesitate to take up on that offer.”

He nuzzled Lafayette’s thigh and looked up, “are you sure? I wonder how George would react if he walked in with me sucking your cock. I miss it. George would think you’re so pretty, would you be pretty for him if he asked? We could be pretty for him together, Laf, he’s so good to me, he can be good to you too.”

Lafayette could feel his resolve melting, but he lifted the ribbon in his hand, “Maybe, but first, I must wrap you.”

The slow slide of ribbon on heated skin was maddening, but Alex bore through it. He let out a whimper when Lafayette took the opportunity to punch his nipples and bite along his skin, leaving it reddened.

His wrists were tied behind his back, and Lafayette arranged his hair just so. Alex’s knees were kicked apart, and he gasped when Lafayette’s hand started to stroke up and down his cock, “You’re always so pretty like this, your George is a very lucky man.”

A bow was tied around the base, and Lafayette pressed a kiss to the tip, licking into the slit once before he pulled up, “there, perfect.”

Lafayette stood up, and Alex gave his crotch a pointed look. He chuckled and said, “No time.” He bent down and pressed a kiss to both of Alex’s cheeks, “Now, I must get going. Merry Christmas, mon ami.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By ashilrak


	22. crackship doing what pleases you; jefferson/lafayette/seabury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when jefferson and lafayette have too much to drink and have nothing better to do than harass the local bishop...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was fucking dared okay
> 
> *everything seabury says after "in the name of the father" is an anglican confessional prayer - also used in pre-revolutionary american episcopal churches. copied and pasted from wikipedia lol  
> anyways if prayer in sin bothers you, you probably shouldn't be reading this

Lafayette giggles, and plucks the bible from Seabury’s white-knuckled hands. “Lighten up, Sammy _.” _

“Don’t call me that,” Seabury snaps.

“Why not?” The man behind him purrs, snaking an arm around his waist and pulling him flush against his hips. Lafayette snorts. 

Seabury yelps, trying to squirm away. “Let go of me!”

“Nah,” the man says, and rests his chin on Seabury’s shoulder. 

“This is undignified,” Seabury says, but he’s losing this fight. Heat stirs in his abdomen and he frantically thinks of his oath to the church, the father who trained him,  _ anything  _ but the fact that Thomas Jefferson’s cock is digging into his ass. 

“Have a drink, darlin’,” said Patriot murmurs into his skin.

“Yes,” Lafayette agrees. “Have a drink with us.”

“I - I’m not allowed - and even if I wanted to, the last people I’d drink with are you two idiots!”

“Aww, little Sammy pretending he’s a big boy, thinks he’s too good for alcohol,” Jefferson teases. 

“Shut up,” Seabury hisses. 

“Why don’t you come home with us, then, hm Sammy?” 

“We don’t have to drink,” Jefferson says. “But you can bend over the couch if you’d like, let us -”

“Thomas,” Lafayette says sternly. 

“Sorry,” Jefferson says, not sounding contrite in the least.

“I -” Seabury says.

“He could’ve said it better,” Lafayette says. “But fuck it. Do you, Sammy? You want us to fuck you? Stuff you full until you can’t think of anything but our cocks?” 

Seabury whimpers, pushes back on Jefferson’s hips. Jefferson moans, moving in little circles, grinding on him. “I think he does,” Jefferson laughs breathlessly, nipping on Seabury’s ear. 

“In the name of the father,” Seabury whispers, but Lafayette drowns him out in laughter, says, “that won’t save you now,” and lets Thomas guide him down the street, to a little cheap hotel used exactly for the reason they’re there. 

Lafayette slides a little extra over the counter, winks and puts his finger to his lips. Jefferson tries to keep his face hidden, but it’s  _ hard.  _

If the girl at the desk is surprised to see the author of the Declaration of Independance and a proclaimed ambassador from France with the very obviously Loyalist bishop, she doesn’t give any indication. 

“Almighty and most merciful Father,” Seabury says quietly once they’re up the stairs. 

“Forgive me Lord, for I have sinned,” Jefferson mocks into his skin, kissing and biting and licking in ways that shouldn’t feel good -  _ lust  _ \- but do, they feel so fucking good -

“We have erred, and strayed from thy ways like lost sheep,” Seabury groans, not faltering even as Lafayette fists his cock, pushes him against the door. 

“Give up the prayer,  _ mon petit.” _

_ “ _ We have followed too much the devices - a-and desires of our own h-hearts -”

“Is that such a bad thing, right now?” Jefferson asks, and the three of them fall inside the room.

“We have offended against thy holy laws,” Seabury pants, closing his eyes as the other two strip him of his clothes, before turning to each other and meeting at the mouth, devouring each other in a way, passionate. He wonders if they’ve fucked before, remembers how Lafayette shut up Jefferson with one word. 

He feels himself get harder, prays quicker, mouth moving faster. “We have left undone those things which we ought to have done, and we have done those things which we ought not to have done, and there is no health in us.”

“Shut him up,” Lafayette tells Jefferson.

“Gladly,” he says with a smirk. “Wanna get on your knees, Sammy?” 

Seabury sinks to his knees quickly, face flushing red. “But thou, O Lord, have mercy upon us, miserable offenders,” he mumbles.

“Miserable offenders indeed,” Jefferson chuckles, and slips his cock inside Seabury’s mouth. 

_ Spare thou them, O God, which confess their faults,  _ he thinks.  _ Restore thou them that are penitent; According to thy promises declared unto mankind in Christ Jesus our Lord. _ _  
_ Jefferson moans above him, fucking into his mouth. 

“Beautiful, Sammy,” Lafayette says, running his hand through Seabury’s hair. 

Jefferson pulls out. “Over couch,” he says. Winks. “Make good on that promise.”

Seabury scrambles to bend over the backrest as Jefferson moves around to shove himself back inside Seabury’s mouth. 

Seabury moans as Lafayette pushes a finger inside him, nudging around. He can’t see what Lafayette is doing, but something wet and cold touches him, and he squirms. “Nearly there,  _ ma petit, _ ” he coos, and then there’s a third finger inside him too.

The fingers leave him after an achingly long time, and Lafayette’s cock nudges against his hole. “Let us hear those prayers of yours,” Lafayette says laughingly. “Blaspheme, Father.”

“Mmmmgh,” is all Seabury manages.

“Come on,” Jefferson taunts, pushing into his throat. Seabury chokes, but doesn’t make a move with his hands to stop it. “You can do better than that.” Lafayette pushes inside, and he groans, shivers at the feeling. 

“And grant, O most merciful Father, for his sake,” Seabury tries, but it comes out garbled. Jefferson snickers, pulls out so that the next line is audible - “That we may hereafter live a godly, righteous, and - and sober life.” Lafayette shifts, and thrusts forward. Seabury lets out something that may be mistaken for a yelp. 

It doesn’t take long before both of them are fucking into him, and he just lies there, limp on the couch, eyelids fluttering, enjoying. It’s pleasure that takes him beyond what he’s ever felt before. He only remembers in the end to gasp out, “to the glory of thy holy Name -” before Lafayette is coming in his ass, and Jefferson in his mouth. 

“Need a hand, Sammy?” Lafayette asks, and Jefferson’s got this infuriating look on his face as he just sits, cock in Seabury’s mouth. Lafayette doesn’t pull out to reach around, jerking Seabury an embarrassing count of once before he comes, choking himself on Jefferson’s dick once more so they don’t hear him say, “Amen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how's that for taking you sinners to church
> 
> written by thegirlnightwing


	23. boring sex; hamliza

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vanilla and straight lmao what is this ive clearly been replaced by robots or aliens or smth  
> /// ok eliza is Not Nice in this and there is a lot of cheating and thoughts of cheating and stuff so. yeah

Alex pushes his pile of papers and memos away with a groan. Jefferson has written something of an abomination, suggesting changes to a financial plan of some sort he can’t afford to concede to. 

“Alex,” Eliza says from the doorway.

“Betsy,” he responds, tired. 

“Come to bed with me. It’s late.”

“I know,” Alex says, keeping his gaze fixed to the desk. She comes up behind him, rests her hands on his shoulders. He flinches.

“Alex,” she says, worried.

“I’m fine, I promise,” Alex says. “When have I lied to you, Betsy?”

There’s a silence, and she somehow makes it accusatory. He swallows, memories of Maria beneath him breaching the surface of his memories. “I’m -” he says.

“Don’t,” Eliza interrupts, firmly. “Don’t.”

“Okay,” he says. He shrugs off her hands, stands and turns to face her. She has about an inch on him in terms of height, and he isn’t wearing his shoes so she has that much more of an advantage in her own heels. 

“Come to bed,” she repeats. 

“Okay.”

It’s been awhile since the two of them had fallen into their bed tangled together as they are now, engrossed in each other. Alex kisses down Eliza’s neck, and she bares it for him, glowingly pale against the pattern of their blankets. 

“I’ve missed you,” Alex says into her skin, and she grips his hair tighter, breathes shaky through her nose. They’ve seen nothing but each other for the past week, but she knows what he means. He misses her skin, her body, blood, and flesh. Her heat and her hands. Her face pulled and twisted into expressions only he has seen.

She does not respond in kind, thinking of the man she’d fucked while Alex avoided her, the way the man laughed into her cunt when she’d gritted her teeth, ground out her reasons for coming to him instead of her husband. He’d been a better lay than Alex had in their many years of knowing each other. Alex had always treated her delicately, like something that could be broken. The other, however. He was rough once and she grabbed his hair and  _ yanked _ , hissed out, “ _ no, _ ” and he bent to her will. Surprising. Eliza wonders what her husband would think of that picture - Thomas Jefferson on his knees for his sworn rival’s wife.

Alex continues kissing his way down her body, opening her clothes as he goes. He pulls off her dress and she lifts her hips for him. He catches them before she lowers them again, brings himself to her folds and licks out a tongue tentatively. She bites back a groan, covers her mouth with a hand. He grins up at her in victory, and she scowls, determined not to let him get the upper hand.

Alex lathers his fingers in oil, dips one inside her. If he’s surprised at how loose she feels, he doesn’t show it. He twists, pushes against her walls to try to make her unravel, begging and writhing under his hand, but she stays still, stares at the ceiling. 

_ If he can have a mistress, I am allowed a lover. _

He finishes quick, sheds his own clothes, and slides into her carefully, like he’s afraid to touch her, taint her with the poison that seeps under his skin, the ink that stains his hands. 

His fingers leave bruises in her hips - fingerprints that cover, unbeknownst to him, Jefferson’s touch. 

He whispers praises in fluttered kisses across her skin, licks the sweat in the dip of her collarbone. His hips move to join and leave hers, pressing inside and out of her. 

“Darling,” Eliza murmurs, presses a kiss of her own to his sweaty forehead. 

He moans. She brushes his hair out of his eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” Alex says, groans into her chest. 

“Mm,” she says. Her eyes are fixed to the ceiling. She casts her mind away and thinks of how Jefferson let her pull his cravat like reins, guiding him this way and that. 

Alex loves her with the same energy she fucks Jefferson with, and that’s something that stands out. The only thing. She rests her head back and thinks, she could fall asleep like this. 

He calls her baby and she rests her hand on the back of his neck, thinks that she could increase pressure easily, choke him, show him she’s not the dainty glass figure he wants to keep behind locked cabinet doors. Show him that she can take what he can give, and give a hell of a lot more than he can take. 

But she refrains, letting him graze his fingers over her skin, letting him flutter his lips instead of biting his teeth. 

“Do you love me?” She asks when he reaches particularly deep, touching a part of her he hadn’t touched in a long time, a part of her that another man had just recently pleasured. 

“Yes,” he breathes, and she knocks his hand away, scoots up on the bed so he’s no longer inside her, no longer in danger of giving her another child. “Do you love  _ me _ ?” She reaches over instead of giving a response, takes him in hand, and strokes him, catching his mouth on her own and running her tongue over his bottom lip. He groans into it, leans back, thrusts his hips into air. “Betsy,” He murmurs, and then he spills over her hand, white staining the blankets. She doesn’t have to wait a moment until he’s halfway to sleep, eyes unseeing and sliding closed. 

“No,” she whispers into his unhearing ear. “I stopped a long time ago.”

He grunts, rolls onto his side, and for a moment she thinks he heard her - for a moment she is genuinely,  _ truly _ scared. But he merely mumbles something, starting with Washington and ending with Madison and she doesn’t want to know why he’s thinking of them directly after - well, that. 

She has not orgasmed tonight. Unsurprising, given Alex’s previous track record. 

She sighs, slips out of the bed. Jefferson’s apartment is a mere block away - she will be fine walking there in her nightclothes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written by thegirlnightwing


	24. fingering; jeffmads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry

Thomas leans back on his elbows and wriggles his toes nervously.

“Did you clean up?” Jem asks, examining Thomas’s dick.

“Yes,” says Thomas.

“Stretched?”

“Mmhm.”

“Back and front?”

Thomas’s cock jumps a little. It’s half-hard, twitching a little with his pulse. “Yeah,” he says. His mouth is dry.

Jem makes a humming noise in his throat and gently strokes the very tip of Thomas’s cock with his thumb. It’s slick there, shiny and wet; Thomas feels a sharp spike of pain in his jaw as he begins to salivate. It takes all his willpower not to thrust up into Jem’s mouth. That mouth, those lips, are so close that Thomas can feel Jem’s breath washing hot over his cock.

Jem is in his boxers and undershirt, calm and composed, while Thomas squirms naked on the bed. A hand reaches down to tease his asshole, stretched, slick, open a little; it dips inside easily and Thomas arches his back and grunts.

“That’s all it takes to make you melt, huh?” Jem asks. He adds a second finger and curls them up to massage either side of Thomas’s prostate. 

Thomas bites back another grunt and instead chokes out, “fuck you.”

“Later,” Jem says. “Although if you can do any fucking once I’m done with you, I’ll be surprised.”

Jem pulls his fingers out, slips them back in, sneaks in a third as well. It isn’t a stretch by any means - Thomas prepared very well - but the smooth drag in and out of his loose ass is perfect.

“Don’t just rub,” Thomas breathes as Jem finds his prostate again. “In and out. Fuck me.”

Jem huffs, and is that the ghost of a smile on his austere lips? He thrusts his fingers in and out of Thomas medium-fast, curling on the pull back, and each time it hits against his prostate and makes him arch and pant.

“Hold your dick for me,” Jem says, slipping his pinky into Thomas and fucking faster. It’s obscene, seeing four fingers fuck in and out, hearing the slick sound of the lube. Jem can almost get in up to where his thumb meets his palm.

Thomas wraps his fingers around his cock, jacks it just long enough to get totally hard, and then angles it towards Jem. Jem examines it, fondles it with his free hand, teases the tip with his pinky. “Lube,” he orders, curt. His fingers have slowed in Thomas’s ass; TJ grinds back against them as he reaches for the lube, pops it open, and dribbles some over the head of his cock.

Jem rubs his pinky over the glans again. He drags the finger through the dribble of lube, catching a little as it trickles down along Thomas’s frenulum. “Ready?” he asks.

“Stop stalling,” Thomas says. “Put it in.”

Jem’s finger circles Thomas’s piss slit. It’s open, obviously stretched, and as Jem dips his finger inside a little, he can feel lube, a little tacky. It’s been in there too long. He pulls out, slicks his finger with the lube on the head of Thomas’s cock, and then plunges his finger down to the first knuckle in his slit.

For a moment, Thomas makes no sound. Then he draws a deep breath in through his nose, tosses his head back, and groans, a sound so deep and feral it seems to echo from the bottom of his diaphragm.

“Good?” Jem asks. He wriggles his finger a little and grins when Thomas chokes out a sob.

“More,” Thomas manages to pant.

Jem pulls his finger out a little and then pushes it in deeper, almost to the second knuckle. It’s a stretch, and he holds back for fear of hurting Thomas; but Thomas grinds his hips desperately, pushing back against the fingers in his ass and then jerking up into the finger in his cock. Each eager roll of his hips pushes Jem a little deeper, and before long Jem is so deep in Thomas’s ass that the only way to push in any further would be to slip his thumb in, too. His pinky is up past the second knuckle in his cock. There’s an obscene bulge along the raphe; Jem wiggles his finger a little, and Thomas groans as the bulge moves. Jem strokes along it with his thumb.

“Fuck,” Thomas gasps. “Fuck, Jemmy, please, I can feel it from both sides -”

“Good?”

“Don’t stop -”

“You want bigger?”

Thomas lifts his head, staring at Jem with huge, pleading eyes. He’s weeping a little; the slightest hint of tears shine on his lower lashes. “Please,” he breathes.

So Jem fucks his finger in and out and in and then pops it out completely, and the sight of Thomas’s cock stretched and open is gorgeous. It’s his ring finger that he rubs the tip with next. Thomas is crying, his breath hitching in his chest, and Jem holds eye contact as he slips the tip of his ring finger in and pushes. He keeps pushing until the whole length of his finger is in, and then he thrusts, sliding in and out and biting his lip at the sight of the bulge working up and down Thomas’s cock. Each push and pull yanks desperate keening noises from Thomas’s throat.

“Please, please, please,” Thomas gasps, and he doesn’t get any further - that’s as much as he can choke out. His ass is twitching and clenching and that’s how Jem knows he’s close. “Please, please -”

So he pulls his ring finger out, dribbles more lube onto the head of Thomas’s cock, and forces his thumb in.

Thomas sits up and  _ howls. _ He sobs and jerks and shudders, and as Jem pushes his thumb in deeper and strokes the glans with his fingers, Thomas’s begging ramps up. “Please,  _ please  _ please please  _ please! _ Please -”

And then he stops and curls forward, hands flying up to clench on Jem’s arms, and Jem feels something hot hit his thumb and Thomas is crying and he pulls his thumb out and come floods up out of the gaping hole and spatters hot. Each pulse makes Thomas’s cock jump, and the semen drips slick, mixed with lube, over Jem’s chest, soaking into his undershirt.

“Fuck,” Thomas says, and then he shudders and collapses backwards and lays still.

Jem wipes his hand on his boxers and pulls the other out of Thomas’s ass. Thomas makes a soft noise of protest and whines until Jem curls up beside him. He’s painfully hard, and he ruts a little against TJ’s hip.

“Need me to take care of that?” Thomas asks.

“Nope,” Jem tells him. “At least not right now. You just bask, baby. Enjoy how much I fucked your dick up.”

“It’ll never be the same,” Thomas agrees, and he cuddles up. “Thanks for wrecking my genitals or whatever.”

“No problem,” says Jem.

Thomas chuckles, kisses his cheek, and settles, one hand curled protectively over his cock. And if it weren’t for the lube and the semen all over, if it weren’t for the obscene gape of Thomas’s cock slit and his asshole -

Well, Jem could almost call him cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come yell at me on [tumblr](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)  
> \- alex

**Author's Note:**

> So we've decided to join together to do Kinkcember 
> 
> Our tumblrs: [ashilrak](http://ashilrak.tumblr.com/), [Draconequus](http://draconequss.tumblr.com/), [Alexanger](http://alexangery.tumblr.com/), [theGirlNightwing](http://thalia-the-guitar.tumblr.com/)
> 
> And kookookarli and i (thegirlnightwing) made a sin tumblr, come prompt us and scream abt the sin we have here ;;; ))) [SaySinToThis](https://saysintothis.tumblr.com/)


End file.
